


Reaper Eyes

by Teatime86



Category: Witch Eyes-Scott Tracey
Genre: M/M, Traden, alt-Phantom Eyes fic, dark!Braden at a point, first fic in this fandom, scott tracey's series not mine, spoilers for demon eyes and phantom eyes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-19
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2018-02-26 05:47:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 50,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2640344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teatime86/pseuds/Teatime86
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grace stole the Witch Eyes from Braden, but now there is something else in its place. Something older-and darker. And as the feud escalates even more and both Lucien and Catherine push Braden to his limits, the young Thorpe makes a choice that changes everything.<br/>They'd wanted a weapon? Well, he was going to give them a war.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i am the one to start this fandom so first things first:i don't own the Witch Eyes series. It is the property of Scott Tracey, who is one of my favourite authors. This fic is an alternate end to the series, taking place right after the end of Demon Eyes. Phantom Eyes was a glorious third book, but the thing I looked forward to the most didn't happen so it will in here :)
> 
> also this is still a WIP so the next chapter probs won't be up for awhile. this is just a test to see if anyone reads it/likes it.

_Blood and darkness smoke and shadows death to starlight screams torn out of him agony blistering fingers skin heat flames sweat sulfur what had they done to deserve this?_

It happened every time he closed his eyes now. Every time he slept or lost focus for even a second;he couldn't stop seeing that vision Grace had shown him right before she'd taken his power-the one of him and Trey in a decimated Belle Dam. Trey broke. Lucien destroyed. And eyes no longer the kaleidoscope of virulent, ever-shifting colours, but the Stygian, swirling violet that spoke of madness and misfortune.

_Two boys, standing alone in the center of a raging, black inferno. Buildings crumbled and sobs rang out as all around them, people burned._

Braden had tried his hardest to block out the assault of images. He'd even been going so far as forcing himself not to sleep.

_Trey was one of them, with his eyes vapid and lifeless, his head hung low. He was a shell, with his hand bound to the other boy's;his wrist chained to the violet-eyed boy's hand._

_**He was nothing that he had been , but he was mine**._

The images were always there, though, lurking around the fringes of his mind. The more he saw them, the more they felt like a certainty. Like they were the inexorable future and not just a possible one.

_Bruising scorch sear see what desecration looks like split my thoughts in two swallow that pain down in a sea of venom_

There was a part of him that wanted to vomit, to rage and scream that they couldn't be true. He would never become that-no matter what happened. But there was another, darker part of him that wanted it. Because becoming that would mean he could finally deliver justice to Catherine and Lucien for everything they had done-everything they had taken from him.

He tossed and turned in his bed as the images came faster, fiercer and more vivid than any time before.

_The ground was stained with reflections of the carnage;blood, cinders, ash. The pungent, acrid aroma of scorched flesh and ichor permeated the air thickly, leeching every bit of oxygen from it._

_He breathed it in deeply before turning his writhing gaze to the mewling creature prostrated beneath his boot. The once-great Rider who called himself Lucien, begging for mercy but the word was alien to him now. A human weakness. He had forgone those pitiful things-he needed them no longer. He had become a twisted being, something beyond primordial, monopolizing the power of the wellspring and sloughing off the foibles called emotions._

_He had blood on his hands, rivers, geysers, oceans of it. And there could only be more;it should have sickened him, but he felt only glee._

_They were all damned now-and it was all because of him._

Braden struggled to awaken, feeling sweat trickling into his eyes and acid burn his throat. But all he could see was red. The red of blood, the red of demon's eyes in horror films and TV shows. All he could hear was Grace's voice, uttering the words that shattered his world and haunted him ever since he'd first heard them:

“ _The alignment of Thorpe and Lansing will make the constellations themselves shudder and collapse.”_

  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah i told you not expect a new chapter for awhile. fortunately i am almost done the next chapter so it shouldn't be too long before i post that one. but we'll see. enjoy this one in the meantime

A week after the death of my uncle, the dreams changed. A new vision entered my mind-but this seemed less like a vision and more like...a message.

I was in my room in Jason's house, but it was in a shambles. I stood in front of a full-length mirror, but the reflection in it was not my own.

Staring back at me were a pair of bright, roiling acid green eyes. They were set in a face of distinctly Asian-looking olive skin and feminine features. That was definitely not my reflection, seeing as how it was one of a woman-what was more, the backdrop was most definitely not the same as the room I was standing in.

Silver walls surrounded the woman in the mirror, twisted symbols engraved into the marble. I didn't think I'd ever seen symbols like that before-yet they seemed strangely familiar.

In fact, this whole scene was strangely familiar.

The shadows danced eerily around the woman's face, contrasting sharply with the phosphorescent glow of her eyes. “Who are you?”I meant to shout, but the question came out in a whisper;my voice had turned low and thin, like a wisp of its former self.

Thin, unglossed lips curved in a slow, easy smile. “I think the real question is, who are _you_?”the dark-haired stranger shot back in a cryptic tone, raising one of her hands to reveal the thorned vines that were coiled around her slender fingers.

She cocked her head to the side, gaze wide like that of a curious child.

“Are you Braden Michaels, the current rope in the Thorpe-Lansing tug of war?The weapon everyone in this town so badly wants to control?Or,”

She paused, looking at me with an expression that I couldn't define as more of her location came into view behind her. Dark red stains appeared on the walls, blood on stone. Her eyes flashed, then she completed her question: “Are you, as the Widow and the Rider suspect, the one meant to end the world as we know it?”

I wanted to say none of the above;I didn't _want_ to be any of those things, but so far, it'd been looking as though I didn't have a choice. I'd thought I knew who I was, but ever since coming to Belle Dam, things had changed- _I_ had changed. I had found and lost so much and now, the truth was, I wasn't the same as I had been.

My mouth moved of its own accord, forming the three syllables that I definitely didn't want to utter: “I don't know.”

I hadn't wanted to admit it, but that was the truth.

The reflection's smile turned utterly pitiless. “You used to think you'd always be the only one in control of your destiny, didn't you, Braden?But now that you've lost your power, you seem to think you have only two choices:let yourself be used-or let yourself and everyone you care about be punished for what you did to Lucien Fallon,”

I clenched my jaw tightly, suppressing my anger. How did this stranger know so much about me? “I won't be anyone's puppet,”I hissed vehemently, wishing that statement didn't sound so hollow.

Cracks began to form on the frosted glass, as the woman's voice increased in volume, sounding as though it were coming from all around me.

“ _One way or another, we are_ all _puppets. But if you want to pull your own strings, you are going to have to find a door number three,_ ”

The cracks in the mirror spread rapidly, spiderwebbing across the crystalline surface. I didn't want to hear that;I _really_ wanted to know who this woman was who could so easily see into my life and my thoughts. I didn't want to have _another_ unidentified enemy in my midst.

“Tell me your name!”I shouted out forcefully, hoping that she would still hear me, even as the mirror continued to fracture in front of me.

“ _Names, as you will come to know, are a very powerful thing. If you want to avoid being controlled, you should be more careful who you give yours in the future,”_

On that last word, the mirror completely shattered and the scene imploded from within itself-but not before the stranger delivered one last parting shot:

“ _Tell your new master I say hello.”_

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah this took me freaking forever to post but I finally was able to figure out how I wanted to rework this scene so here it is like almost two years later

When I opened my eyes, I was already in motion.

Rain poured down from the sky in torrents and buckets, pelting me on all sides as I raced through copses of thick, dark trees. Obviously, I wasn't in my bedroom anymore. I wasn't in Jason's house-I wasn't even on the property. I had no idea where I was or how I'd gotten here-or what I was running from.

I'd screamed at that strange woman that I was no one's puppet;but I'd been wrong. Now I understood that creepy smile of hers. My body wasn't in my control. Someone else was behind the wheel, driving me along a course I didn't recognize. I couldn't move any of my limbs the way I wanted. I was a passenger in my own head.

Not only was I a puppet, but I didn't even know who was pulling my strings.

As I continued down the path, I started to recognize some of my surroundings:unless I was mistaken, I was in the woods behind Jason's house. I had run through these woods numerous times before, with Drew. But all those times before had been my choice:this time, I didn't know whose choice it was, but it definitely wasn't mine.

At least I had some idea where I was going now:I knew this path and I knew it lead all the way to the coastline. There was a clearing about a quarter of a mile from here, an outcropping of rocks that overlooked the bay.

The strange thing, though, was that besides the rain and the sound of my own heartbeat, the woods were practically silent. Typically, the forest was a beautiful chaos of noise, but right now, it was as if someone had hit the mute button on everything around me. Or whoever was controlling me had made me selectively deaf.

Even stranger than that-if that was possible-was the fact that I was barely breathing hard by the time I reached the clearing, even though it was nearly half a mile. My heart was beating much faster than normal, though not because of my physical exertion. No, this was about something else entirely.

I didn't stop at the clearing, though. I thought that was where I was headed, but I reached it and just kept moving right past it. The forest was getting darker, the tree cover even thicker. I could barely see because of the rain. It was freezing, and yet I was barely shivering. Something was happening to me. I couldn't control it:I didn't even know how it had started. All I knew was it wasn't natural.

The darkest part of the woods was where I finally came to a halt:ironically, it was also where I was finally able to see. Everything was suddenly crystal clear, even down to the grooves in every tree trunk and every drop of water on every single leaf. It was almost like having the witch eyes back, only I wasn't seeing the past or the future anymore:I was seeing the present with frightening clarity.

At the same time, my hearing  finally started to return-or at least became noticeable again. And the first thing I heard was a very familiar voice:

“Long time no see, Boy Wonder.”

When the speaker came out of the trees, I was expecting to see any one of the dozen or so adults who most likely had my death penciled in at the top of their to-do lists. It never even occurred to me that it would be someone my age.

I hadn't seen Ben since that day at the hospital when he'd disappeared with a tissue full of my blood. He'd always been a little off, bloodplay notwithstanding, but I'd never even considered that he might be after me. He was an unknown, in all senses of the word.

He came striding toward me in a completely unassuming manner, apparently unfazed by the steadily growing storm. I frowned as he came closer:it had only been three days since we'd last seen each other, yet he looked as though he had aged almost a decade since then. His hair had grown longer and his shoulders had definitely never been that wide before.

He brushed off the front of his oddly dry black suit as he came to a halt about half a meter or so from where I was currently frozen.

Just like in my dream last night, I wanted to shout at him, to demand to know what was going on and why the hell I was here;but my vocal chords wouldn't obey me. I was unable to speak, unable to do anything but stare and wait for the inevitable attack.

Ben seemed almost disappointed at my lack of response, though he was clearly making an effort not to show it. “Nothing to say?”he quipped with a smirk, somehow not having to yell to make himself heard over the howl of the wind. “I guess I shouldn't get my hopes up huh?”He made a show of wiping his palms off on his pants with a feigned chuckle, “Sweaty palms,”

This...was not at all what I'd been expecting. I tried to speak again, and this time, I was actually successful.

“Is this the part where I beg for my life?”I asked, because I was honestly curious. I didn't think I'd been dragged all the way out here to the middle of nowhere for a tea party.

Ben reached into his jacket, pulling out the tissue stained with my blood and shaking it almost tauntingly before he answered. “No, this is the part with the screams.”

He moved his hand, the one not holding my blood-just a little crook of his pinkie finger and a sudden jolt shot through my own hand. I got the feeling that it was supposed to hurt, but it was more like cold fire and ice. It reverberated through my entire arm and it made my whole body shake.

He did it again, this time bending his index finger, and the sensation got stronger, strong enough that I had to force myself not to cry out with the shock of it. It felt like my arm was burning and freezing at the same time, like nothing I'd ever felt before.

This was magic-which meant that Ben had to be a witch. There was no other explanation.

“What do you want?”I hissed, struggling to hold in my screams.

Ben's expression darkened, as if the question offended him. “It's not about what I want,”he stated cryptically with what sounded almost like bitterness, “Personally, I want you to _die_ ,”

I tried to lunge at him, then, thinking that if I could knock him off of his feet, maybe I could make him let go of whatever was allowing him to control me. But it didn't work out like that:just as I would have made contact with his chest, Ben vanished.

I stumbled, nearly falling flat on my face. Somehow, though, I managed to stop myself before I hit the ground, falling once then rolling back onto my feet in a move that was more accident than intentional.

Ben laughed, a dark, guttural noise that sounded more angry than truly amused. “Don't you get it?”he shot at me in a tone like he was a teacher lecturing a particularly slow student. “You're not in control here. You can't touch me. You can't hurt me. And you certainly can't stop me. I can take my time killing you, and there's nothing you can do about it now that you're powerless.”

I didn't stop to ask how Ben even knew about my power-I got the feeling that he wouldn't tell me even if I had-and instead, decided to make some threats of my own.

“Nastier things than you have tried to kill me before-tried, and failed,”I retorted, “Not that it matters. You think Jason won't tear this town apart coming after you?Do you really want that hanging over your head?”

Ben threw his head back and laughed like I'd just said the funniest thing in the world;the sound made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

I didn't know what to make of this. I should have been afraid. The only smart reaction right now would have been to be afraid. But for some reason, I felt nothing of the sort. My mind was clear-at least, for the time being.

Meanwhile, Ben was wiping tears of laughter form his eyes. “Oh that was good,”he commented, voice slightly breathless with amusement, “Really?What do you think Jason can do to me?Kill me?,” He snorted, “That didn't work out so well for him the first time, and this time, I'm not alone. I'm not the only one who wants this done,”

I frowned:that was the second time Ben had mentioned there being someone else involved in this attack of his. He may have been controlling me, but there was another controlling him. And if he'd been dead before, then whoever it was had probably been the one to bring him back to life. Which meant Ben was a ghost.

But that didn't make sense. I'd touched him. He'd touched me. Hadn't he?

“Oh yeah, little boy blue's trying to put all the pieces together, huh?”Ben quipped snidely, smirking once again, “It's not like the stories. I'm not bound to haunt the scene of my greatest remorse, dressed all in white. That's not how reality works:ghosts are just as solid as any living person here,”

As if to prove his point, he reached over, casual as anything, and tapped a single finger against my abdomen.

I recoiled away from him as, just like with my hand, electricity raced through my chest like a current. I screamed-but not because it hurt.

I screamed because darkness was filling my vision:it was what finally succeeded in knocking me off my feet. And this time, I wasn't able to get back up:I didn't know if I was actually losing consciousness or if something else was at work here, but there was a stirring at the back of my mind, a thread of a vision.

I was on my stomach, the rain hammering down on me like rocks. “Stay down,”I distinctly heard Ben growl, but I couldn't get up even if I'd wanted to. I couldn't see what he was doing. What I saw instead was...

Everything else.

_Swirling silver crystallized crowns obsidian throne of blood and bone_

For the last three nights, my dreams had consisted of nothing but repeats, the same vision over and over again. Until last night, when I'd seen that woman;but that hadn't seemed like a vision.

Sometimes for a moment right after I woke up, I'd see something, the barest trace of one just out of reach.

But, in this moment, it was like everything that had been hidden from me for the last three nights was crashing into my mind all at once, along with what was currently happening.

_The dark altar carved of starlight and screams_

I lost the ability to tell the difference between what was present and what was other. Flashes of Ben looming over me collided with _floating flying_ broken glass skittering across a frozen street, blood pouring from marble and porcelain walls.

_Agony blistering fingers skin fangs heat sulfur-shaped cries what the hell is this_

There was wind and the brush of whispers against my ear, too indistinct to properly make out what they were saying. This couldn't be what Ben wanted. He couldn't be making this happen, not intentionally.

_Wasting time wasted light the lies of mortals are the masks for the gods_

“Whatever you're doing, you don't have to,”I gasped out raggedly, not even really sure what I was saying, too caught up in the whirlwind to think. All I knew was I needed this to stop.

_Shattering mirrors choking on ice no air to breathe_

“Haven't you been listening?”Ben's voice sounded like it was coming from a million miles away now;but there was no missing the contempt and irritation that dripped from every word. “Of course I have to do this, even if I didn't want to punish your dear old dad. And God knows how long I had to wait for this opportunity. The Widow got you ready for me, and then she came like an avenging angel, sweeping me out of that hellhole called the afterlife and back onto this plane so I could finally get some justice,”

I felt his breath on my cheek and assumed he'd closed the remaining distance between us or knelt down so I would realize just how much danger I was really in.

_Rip break hack tear bend bleed fray the strings before they become your noose_

“My first thought was to kill Jason. But then, she made me realize that if I did that, his suffering would end. But if I killed you, tortured _you_ , then that's the thing he curls up against every night and wakes up to every morning.” _there will be nothing left_ “And now I can do what I want to make that a reality. It doesn't have to be bones. I can break anything. Make it fester, burn, decay. As far as I can take my imagination. And I've had a lot of years to imagine exactly what I'd do.

Another fragment, this one of Ben flicking his wrist to the side, making acid fire race over my prostrated legs. The rain lashed at my exposed skin, intensifying the feeling and making me clutch at my head. This was actual pain now, the combined effect of the visions and what Ben was doing.

I couldn't protect myself from it, though. I couldn't stop Ben or the onslaught of images assaulting my mind.

This was it.

This was how I was going to die.

I squeezed my eyes shut, prepared for the worst. And then I heard the absolute last thing I'd ever expected:

“Oh dear, this isn't the yellow brick road.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Matthias emerged onto the scene, dressed in a similar fashion to my tormentor in a perfectly groomed three-piece business suit, black on black as usual so he almost blended into the haunted forest backdrop.

Despite the storm, he, like Ben, was completely dry and unruffled. There wasn't even a single hint of dirt on his shoes-or a drop of water on his skin. Must have been one of the perks of being one of the most powerful creatures roaming around Belle Dam, not having to let the elements do what they would with your appearance.

Hands clasped behind his back, he strode out of the trees as casually as if he'd just been out for a crack of dawn stroll and just happened to stumble across me being tortured by some crazy vengeful ghost.

I didn't expect any help from him;at least not right off the bat. And I wasn't disappointed. “There's an idea,”Matthias gasped mockingly at Ben, as though struck by sudden inspiration, “You could ask the wizard to pull that stick out of your-”

“Stay out of it,”Ben snapped, cutting him off before he could finish the obvious provocation, holding out the bloody tissue like a threat, “And don't move. I'm finishing this right now, and you can't stop me. You wouldn't dare.”

“I'm afraid you're going to be just as disappointed as your date was on prom night,”the other man retorted, affecting an air of somberness that didn't quite fit with his words, “You see, she no longer _wants_ you to finish this, and _she_ sent me to stop you,”

I was barely able to make out their conversation through my daze. To be honest, I wasn't entirely sure that this wasn't another hallucination either caused by my damaged mind or by Ben as another form of torture. My brain was still spinning with fragments, half-images blurring the lines between reality and imagination.

But I _did_ hear Matthias mentioning that '' _she_ '' wanted Ben to stop what he was doing and not kill me. Was it stupid of me to hope that that meant the Grimm actually was here to rescue me?

I caught a glimpse of Ben looking aghast, like he couldn't believe what he was hearing. “Are you kidding?”he burst out, glaring down at me as if this was somehow my fault, “You just got rid of one demonic godmother and now you've got another one lining up to take his place?Haven't you learned _anything_?”

I couldn't speak for myself, still too paralyzed from my pain;I had no idea what to say, anyway. I couldn't even think. All that was in my mind was the darkness threatening to engulf me once again. Everything was drifting in and out of focus and I had no idea what to do about it. I didn't think there was anything I _could_ do about it.

Matthias was the one to respond for me, though, acting as if Ben had been speaking to him.

“I'd say the boy's learned enough.”he said conversationally, as if I wasn't lying at his feet, practically in the fetal position. “At least, he's learned more than you. But then, you were never the sharpest tool in the shed, were you?The rebel with the secret insecurities. Such a forgettable cliche. Almost makes you wonder why she chose you for this job in the first place.”

I didn't think insulting Ben was really the best plan because he took it out on me. I felt my ankle snap like a twig, and I had to bite down on my tongue to keep myself from screaming, earning myself a mouthful of blood. But I refused to make a sound:if hearing my screams was what was getting Ben off, I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction.

The pain in my head, though, was testing that resolve because it only got more and more intense. The world was spinning around me and the images were coming faster and faster, blacking out everything else for another moment.

I missed the next part of Matthias' exchange with my tormentor as I was consumed by _broken windowpanes frozen gates the night is where we are strongest_ snapshots of an entirely different world. _Glass houses and the quarters of Death's deadliest messengers_.

Another bone broke and this time I sank my teeth into my wrist to keep silent, hearing what was almost a hiss reverberate inside my head.

“Oh stop that. I told you, this isn't what she wants anymore,”the Grimm's voice broke into my stupor again, sounding bored, “She sent you here under the assumption that the boy was no longer on the board;but I'm afraid she's realized he's still very much in play,”

I could imagine what Ben's reaction to that news was;but I didn't have to because I heard him snarl like an angry cat a second later. Clearly, he was irate.

“And what if I don't care?”the ghost challenged defiantly, making me tense. If the threat of whoever was controlling him wasn't enough to make him stop, what would?

Fortunately for me, Matthias wasn't taking “no” for an answer.

“She said you might say that. She also said that, if that were the case, I would have to take care of it.”

There was the sound of snapping fingers, loud as another clap of thunder, and then the ground beneath my body began to quake.

A word in a language I didn't recognize was called out-presumably by Matthias-and then, a second voice-an inhuman growl of a voice-repeated the same word, which sounded somehow more proper in its more guttural tongue.

Shadows pooled before my vision, and the creature that bloomed out of them was something eerily familiar. A hellhound;but not quite, for where the hellhounds had fur that was more like spines, this creature appeared completely hairless, cast in shades of ashes and soot. It was nearly skeletal, bones protruding visibly at the top of its spine and near the end of its tail. It's eyes were a solid, murky cataract gray, and its teeth were bared in what could almost pass for a smile.

Matthias had summoned this creature:this was what was supposed to help him stop Ben from killing me.

Apparently, though, Ben wasn't impressed.

“Another hellhound?Really?”he all but snorted with unconcealed derision, “You should know better than that, demon. A thing like that can't hurt me. Nothing can,”

He had good reason to be cocky:after all, he was only as corporeal as he wanted to be. I didn't see how a hellhound would be able to stop him, either. But this wasn't a hellhound.

Like I'd suddenly grown some kind of appendix for creatures of the night in my mind, a voice spoke in my head, a voice that sounded strangely just like the one who'd summoned the thing, telling me all about it:

_Barghest:an accident of creation. Hellhounds are remarkably resilient creatures, but they, like everything else, can be put down. And if one is pregnant when that happens, the litter will refuse to die. They will continue feeding off of the mother, growing stronger through her death until the body is finally sucked dry of anything nourishing. The pups all die, one by one, and then, curiously enough, they come back, clawing their way out onto the surface. Dead, but not dead. Alive, but not alive. Not the most attractive breed, but very useful when dealing with other formerly dead creatures_.

Curiously, Matthias was giving the same speech-with a few alterations-to Ben, no doubt while the Barghest had the ghost pinned to the ground. Because they could capture spirits.

“You're going to forget this little vengeance quest of yours,”I heard him intone, sounding uncharacteristically stern and not all sarcastic for once. “The boy is now officially off-limits. And we all know you've got another weakness, one _she_ knows just how to exploit.”

_A weakness you've worked so hard to keep buried_

I strained to try and see what Ben's reaction to that was. I didn't have a clue what Matthias was talking about, but obviously there was something to his thinly veiled threat because the rage I'd previously heard in my tormentor's voice was now magnified. “You wouldn't touch him,”the ghost said from his place caught underneath the barghest's bulk. He didn't sound too confident, though;and with good reason.

Matthias lifted a single shoulder in a careless shrug. “Wouldn't I?It matters very little to _me_ either way;but to our mutual friend, on the other hand, well, she cares very much. And you boys with your mercurial minds, so unpredictable;if you don't leave the boy alone, she might just decide that the city would be better off without such a threat,”

That seemed to finally get through to Ben because he held up his palms in a gesture of surrender. “I'll back off,”he replied quickly, “Just make sure she leaves him out of this,”

“I can't promise that,”Matthias stated with another shrug, “But she won't touch him if she doesn't have to. But you, I'd suggest you crawl back into your grave, or go beg another witch to return you to your repose. She'll know you tried to disobey her. You'll be the one she comes after,”

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a hazy glimpse of Ben with something like actual fear on his now rain-drenched face. He was really scared:whoever this woman who had brought him back to life was, she clearly wasn't someone to be defied, and apparently Ben had momentarily forgotten that. But Matthias seemed to have made him see just how badly he had screwed up.

The ghost's eyes met mine, again looking almost accusatory as he scrambled to try and push himself out from under the devil dog, like I was the real reason his mistress was going to be unhappy with him. However, there was also a hint of trepidation, like he was afraid of whatever had made his mistress change her mind about letting him kill me;truth be told, I was a little anxious about that, too.

Whatever it was, it seemed to override his desire to take his anger at Jason out on me, and, just like that, he was gone.

With a jolt, I was brought fully back into the present, and the full effects of Ben's torture hit me like a speeding bus. I started to shiver, crawling in on myself as much as I could, and causing Matthias's attention to return to me, his features arranging themselves into a distinctly annoyed expression.

“You're going into shock,”he announced in the same tone as he might have said “your hair is brown”, coming back over to where I lay on the ground and scanning my trembling form dispassionately. “I suppose you want me to burp you now, too?Maybe tell you a bedtime story?”

Normally, it would have been my nature to just tell him that I wouldn't mind if he went and fucked right off;but at that moment, I had far too many questions burning in my mind to just dismiss him like that. I was dying for answers and I couldn't wait to try and get them.

“What was that?”I demanded through chattering teeth, desperately attempting to keep myself steady and focused. “Who sent you here?Who sent _him_ after me?Who was he so afraid of?”

Matthias wagged his finger at me reprovingly like I was a naughty child. “Now, now, you know that that's not how this works,”he said, clicking his tongue, “You have to earn that answer,”

My brows furrowed:that was not what I wanted to hear. But okay, fine. If he wanted me to “earn it”, I guess I would just have to connect the dots myself.

“You said I was still in play,”I recalled shakily, struggling to get to my feet, or at least work myself into a more dignified position, “Whoever you're working for, she told you that. She thought I wasn't, which was why she was content to let Ben have me.” I stared hard at the demon, straining to make it all make sense.

Then it hit me.

“Or _you_ realized I was still in play and _you_ told your boss that so she would give you the okay to reel Ben back. Because if I die, you get nothing.”

“Spare me your school boy theories,”Matthias interrupted, flicking his fingers as if swatting a fly, “If you really want to know what's behind all of this, you have to stop your sniveling and brooding. You have to make a choice:choose to _live_.”

I had to suppress a snort at his fatalistic manner:as if it were that easy.

“It doesn't _work like that_ ,”I snapped, irritated that he thought things were really that simple.

“It doesn't?”Matthias looked positively dumbstruck. “I suppose that explains a bit. I've never understood why people would _choose_ to die, especially when they end up looking all ravaged and sagging. “He cocked his head to the side then, looking at me with an expression I couldn't identify as he continued.

“But then, you're already like that, aren't you?This isn't like before, when the same power that was killing you was also keeping you alive. Now, you have no power. You're an empty vessel, and Fate has washed its hands of you. So what better time for a resurrection?”

Now I was intrigued;but also a little confused. I had an inkling of why Matthias would want me to keep on living, but I wasn't too sure what exactly he was suggesting.

“And what makes you think it's that simple?”I queried, clenching my teeth to keep them from continuing to chatter. “I'm sure you know that my powers were stolen and, like you said I'm just an empty vessel without them. So what exactly are you expecting me to do?”

Matthias smiled then, and it was truly a terrible thing to behold. It was the smile of a true devil.

“You know there's a way of getting them back;you just aren't willing to go that far, not yet,”he said matter-of-factly. His smile widened, “But that's why she's gotten involved. She knows what you refuse to admit, which is that the thing that terrifies you most is also the only thing that can save you,”

There he went again with pronoun game. I couldn't take this any longer. “ _Who_ is _she_?”I repeated more vehemently, effectively losing my patience.

Matthias paused, tilting his head to the side again, almost as if he were listening to something. Then he finally gave me a-somewhat-real answer: “The only creature to challenge the Riders at the Gate, the one all of them, even the Widow, should fear.” His eyes flashed in the dark gray of the dawn as they met mine, gleaming with something I couldn't identify, “You know who I'm talking about. You've seen her:that's why she decided to give you another chance.”

My eyes widened:could he be talking about who I thought he was talking about?

_The woman from my dreams, the one with eyes like mine. Virulent. Ever-changing. But dark-dark like the deepest form of the abyss._

_The queen of the reapers_

I inhaled deeply, taking a beat to try and sort out my jumbled thoughts. If Matthias was talking about her, then that woman was mighty powerful. And she wanted me alive;more than that, she wanted _me_ powerful again. And Catherine, Lucien, Grace, none of them were going to stop pushing at me unless I did something to make them.

Of course, I couldn't really do anything while lying on the ground in agony.

Matthias could fix that, though. I just had to convince him to do so.

“So if your boss wants me to stay alive, I can't imagine she'd want you to leave me lying here like this,”I took a chance, hoping that I was right and he would fix what Ben had broken.

Matthias reached over, baring his teeth. “Fortunately for you, she doesn't,”He raised his hand over my chest, “I can't promise this won't hurt,”

One moment I was dying, and the next, I was _dying._ Black lightning poured into my veins and tore each of them to shred. I collapsed into a hundred thousand pieces, and each piece was an unbearable agony. My body getting charred and splintered apart and the liquid fire I was drowning in, was nowhere near as painful as the bubbling green acid flowing through my bloodstream.

I couldn't stop myself from screaming this time. So I screamed. And screamed.

But just like when Ben had been torturing me, somewhere far beyond my mind and sanity, beneath the layers of loathing, rage, and desperation, there was another flash. Another thread. _Strings being cut die must be cast once again. And the Queen of the Reapers must awaken her king_.

I saw what I needed to do, what had to happen and what Matthias' mistress wanted from me. I saw my way forward.

And then, everything went black.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah i kind of ripped chunks of writing right out of the book so disclaimer for those:obv i don't own them

_**One of the deadliest and darkest powers in existence has now been brought to the town known as Belle Dam. In the guise of a teenage boy, he will destroy everything the Rider has worked for.** _

_**Beneath his feet, they will all be turned to dust**._

_No light pierced the chamber, save for the faint glow of the jet black flames flickering in the hearth at its center. Save for that, the room was in complete darkness._

_Ice covered the marble floor, the curved walls, and the sloping ceiling. There were no windows;but if there had been, they would have been layered over with frost. The temperature was so far below zero, a polar bear would have been frozen._

_At the far end of the room sat a stone dais, upon which lay a tall, gleaming onyx throne. Thorns curled around the raised platform, as well as the throne itself._

_Atop the throne was a stone figure:lean, hooded, and indisputably female._

_It is here she has slept, waiting for a reason to awaken. She has remained in this state, silent and still as a statue for over nine thousand years._

_Until now._

*

This time when I opened my eyes, it was to familiar surroundings:I was back in my bedroom, lying on top of my bed with the sheets tangled around my legs and the covers drawn haphazardly up to my waist. Strangely, I wasn't sore from being tortured, or wet from the storm. It was almost like nothing had happened, like it had all been just some horrible nightmare.

Except, it hadn't been. I might not have been wet, but my bed was. And, when I sat up and looked around, I saw that there were traces of mud and leaves all over my sheets and the carpet and smudged across every bit of exposed skin. Both myself and my bed were definitely in need of a good wash.

But, other than the dirt and dampness, there was no other evidence that what had happened had actually been real;I didn't have any cuts or scrapes, and, when I stretched, I felt my muscles popping in relief and not pain. It didn't feel at all like I had just taken a beating.

Then, I remembered that the real pain hadn't really been in my body. It had been in my head. While Ben had been torturing me, my brain had gone into overdrive. For the first time in days, I'd seen things like when I'd still had my powers. I'd had visions, or at least, fragments of them;I'd felt the echo of what had been stolen from me-except it had been a whole lot stronger than when I'd still had the witch eyes.

What I had seen hadn't felt some like some abstract past, or a possible future:it had felt like a reality of the present. Another place, another point of view, but it had been real.

I remembered breaking glass, rivers of blood, and walls of ice. I remembered screams of terror, stars falling, and blackness rising from beneath the Earth.

Most of all, I remembered an obsidian altar, upon which a statue of a woman had sat. And its eyes had opened.

Whatever spell Ben had been using to torture me had awoken something, some other kind of magic buried deep inside of me. It had shown me all of the threads that had been hidden from me since the witch eyes had been taken. I didn't think that had been Ben's intention when he'd come after me, but that had been the outcome. And it was probably why Matthias had seemed so certain that I was still important, still “on the board,” as he'd put it.

There was more to it than that, though. Just before I must have blacked out, I had seen my way forward. I didn't want to be a pawn anymore. I didn't want to stay powerless, and I didn't have to. There was a way to fix everything-I just didn't know if I wanted to take it.

Inhaling deeply, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and headed for the bathroom. I needed to find another way to get my life back, one that didn't require becoming the one thing everyone seemed to fear the most. But first, I needed to take a shower and put on some clean clothes. There was someone I had to go see.

*

By this point, the hospital had basically become my second home:if I wasn't a patient myself, I was visiting one. And I'd never liked hospitals, either, though not for the usual reasons, like how they all used the same deliberately neutral colour scheme, or the way they all seemed to smell identical-like disinfectant, tension, and emptiness.

No, the reason for my dislike of hospitals was mostly because because they were always teeming with emotions:all the tragedies, memories, and especially all the pain really built up over the years, so seeing a hospital without my sunglasses on had always been a thousand times worse than whatever had brought me there in the first place.

Now, however, there were only pieces, the barest impressions of passing misery and sickness, faint enough that I could ignore them and concentrate on what I'd come here for. I needed a less dangerous game plan and there was a patient here who just might be able to help me.

Riley's room was almost unrecognizable when I walked in after getting off the elevator. She was up on one of the top floors, in a private room where she could be monitored better. Her mother couldn't afford it, of course-but Jason could. There was a even a guard posted at the door, just in case anyone got too interested in her. He'd had it all taken care of before I'd even thought to ask him;even then, he'd tried to play dumb when I'd brought it up to thank him. For some mysterious reason, Jason didn't seem to want to take any of the credit for making sure Riley was looked after.

The room's window normally had an exceptional view of the city through the forest;but, ever since Riley's second night, when she'd had some sort of epic freak out, the drapes had been permanently drawn.

It wasn't dark in her room, though, for every wall socket had a nightlight plugged into it-some even had two-and the overhead lights were never shut off. Even when Riley slept, those lights remained on.

Her bed was covered in quilts that smelled of smoke and sadness, frayed at the edges and colours a pale imitation what they'd once been.

Fitting for the girl who was a faded impression of what she had once been.

There were a series of pictures taped to the wall, a collection of them artfully displayed to highlight all of the people that Riley had known on a daily basis. I didn't have any proof, but I had a feeling that that was Jade's contribution. She and Riley didn't get along-or at least, that was how it looked on the surface-but I'd never gotten the impression that Jade really hated her. Riley might have seriously disliked Jade, but Jade appeared more resigned on the matter, like she couldn't do anything about it, so she'd just accepted it.

There were copies of the school newspaper spread out along the bedside table in case Riley ever woke up and wanted to do some light reading. But she wouldn't, because her mind had been shattered. By me. Now she was somewhere between schizophrenic and a vegetable, condemned to speaking in riddles that sounded like nonsense. But I was hoping that deciphering some of that nonsense might give me some idea of what to do now.

Of course, the one time I could have actually used her crazy speak, Riley was completely silent. I went over to her bedside and placed my hand over hers, but she still didn't even stir;she was so still that, if it weren't for the fact that I could feel her pulse, I would have thought she was dead.

I exhaled dejectedly. “Come on, Riley,”I said under my breath, staring holes into her pale, slack face. “You always have something to say. I need you. “My voice was unnaturally loud in the all-but-empty room, emphasizing the fact that it was too quiet:something was off.

My gaze moved away from my catatonic friend, sweeping over the room searchingly. Then I saw it. “I know you're there,”I called out flatly, letting go of Riley's hand to fold my arms across my chest.

Matthias rose from his seat in the corner, where he'd been concealed by one of the big gift baskets that kept appearing-likely brought by someone who thought Jason would be stopping in to check on her personally.

“Hush now, indoor voices,”Matthias murmured, giving me a smile. “We wouldn't want the little miss to wake early from her slumber, would we?”

I forced myself not to show any of the million different emotions swirling inside my chest, and kept my voice as neutral as possible when I spoke. “What are you doing here?”

“I'm not the one with the interesting agendas. And seeing as how you now owe some part of that life still draped around your shoulders to me, I don't think I care to answer. You came to see the girl. Why?What do you think she can do for you?”

“You can't be here,”I retorted, deliberately ignoring his question-mostly because I didn't really have an answer. “Don't come here again. Riley's suffered enough.”

“Hasn't she just,”Matthias observed with a small chuckle. “But clearly, you haven't. You're still looking for another way out, and you think the girl can help you find it. She's already told you what you need to do:someone has to be looking out for her best interests. Ask yourself if you can protect her?”He waited a moment, during which I was uncomfortably silent. “I thought not.”

I clenched my teeth. He was right, of course. I couldn't do anything for Riley the way I was now. But what Matthias was talking about, what Riley had said was my only way out...My eyes returned to her, brows furrowing.

She'd changed her position, and was now sitting up with her feet and legs pulled tight up against her body. She was still frozen, though;she wasn't rocking-that was an improvement-or screaming or clawing or scaring the living crap out of hardened women who'd thought they'd seen everything. And she still wasn't speaking, which was both good-and bad.

I felt guilty for thinking that way, especially when I considered how Riley had ended up this way in the first place. She was another casualty of going up against Lucien;he'd tried using her as his final sacrifice in a ritual to restore himself after he'd been broken. He could have chosen any girl, but he'd chosen Riley to hurt me, because I'd been the one to hobble him. I'd meant to _kill_ him, but I found out the hard way that a creature like Lucien couldn't be killed -and trying to kill him painted a giant target onto the back of everyone you'd ever met. I'd interfered before Lucien could kill Riley, but he'd still managed to do some pretty permanent damage.

“Oh good, you're feeling sorry for yourself,”Matthias broke into my thoughts, grimacing and turning away like the expression on my face was something offensive. “I thought that would have passed by now.”

I glared at him. “It's been _one week_ ,”I snapped acidly;did he really expect me to have gotten over everything that had happened in so little time?

Apparently so. “Worlds and empires have fallen in less,”he retorted smoothly, completely unmoved by my statement.

“Easy to say when you've still got your creepy demon powers,”I muttered resentfully.

“Forgotten hells, aren't you bored with being the victim by now?!Do something new for once!”Matthias burst out, an unusual sharpness cutting at his words. “Be the villain, be _interesting_. Or else why are you still here?”

He jerked his head in Riley's direction. “ _He'll_ come for her soon. He knows she didn't die, and he'll wonder at the dynamic you conjured together. You won't be able to keep him from her. Not if you don't do what she says.”

I looked at Riley as well, who now seemed to be listening, even if her eyes were caught by the fraying at the edge of her blankets. “And what is she?Is she dangerous?Would I be able to save her if I do what she wants?”

I didn't know why I was going to a demon looking for hope.

Matthias cocked an eyebrow. “Perhaps. But why would you want to do that?Maybe she's the ignition you've been needing all along. After all that's happened, the city could use a villain like you.”

“I'm not a villain,”I argued fiercely. “And I won't be;not if it means what I think it means.”

“You weren't a weapon once, either. Time are changing. The girl's been reshaped by two repelling powers:there's a bit of you in there, and a bit of him.”Matthias smiled again. “Which do you think is more dangerous?”

I didn't know how to answer that:he did raise a pretty compelling point, but I didn't want to admit it. I didn't want him to know just how much his arguments were getting to me.

“White is winning, and there is no king to castle,”Riley interjected suddenly in an uncharacteristically solemn tone, drawing both our attention back to her once again.

I stared, my forehead creasing in a frown. I thought I understood what she meant by that, but I wanted to be wrong. I didn't want to think about the consequences of my current powerlessness.

Unfortunately, though, I couldn't stop myself.

“ _If_ I chose to go along with what you and your boss want, would you help me?Could you make sure he doesn't find out?”

Matthias pretended to consider what I was asking, though the gleam in his eyes started appearing before I'd even finished my question. “You want me to tie my own string to you?”He was pleased. “You know I'd be able to yank on it whenever I want. Dangerous thing, for a puppet to go looking for new masters.”

“I'm asking for...”I fumbled for a second, searching for the right words. “Attorney/client privilege.”

“I'm sorry, I think you dialed the wrong number,”Matthias said caustically. “You don't want the sexy black man in a three thousand dollar suit, you want the mewling, petulant shell of a thing wearing eyeballs in between its green scales.”

I didn't let the dismissal deter me. Demons struck bargains with people all the time:it was their nature. Just because Lucien was more up front about it didn't mean he was the only one. “You can negotiate a contract just like he can,”I pointed out matter-of-factly.

“ _Can_ is not _will_ ,”Matthias retorted. “Tell me what you're thinking, and I'll consider it. After all, sheltering you will not bode well for me if it doesn't fit into our mutual friend's overall scheme.”

My frown deepened. He wasn't talking about Lucien this time:could whoever he was working with see futures just like Lucien could?Would she know what I was planning?Would he?

I couldn't take that chance. “I tell you anything, and it sets something in motion,”I said. “This is all hypothetical. Give me one favour, and some time away from Lucien's prying gaze.”

“Ah, so you _are_ up to something. “His demon eyes gleamed even brighter. “Tell me more.”

I shook my head stubbornly, holding out my hand. “Shake on it,”I insisted. There were too many risks:take wrong action and Lucien would see all the ripples and trace them back. But this was just one transaction, not a partnership.

“Very well,”Matthias agreed, and his hand was on mine so fast I barely even saw it move. Dark eyes flashed cornflower blue as he peered inside of me, seeing all the secrets in my life, old and new.

Lucien could read the paths that the future might take, but Matthias could see into the darkest parts of man. The kind of secrets that a man might share only with the closest of confidants. The kinds of secrets that just might spell revolution.

Just as quickly as he'd snatched my hand out of the air, he suddenly flung it away. The demon-blue faded from his irises and he stumbled back from me.

“You're on your own. I won't help you.”His bravado was shattered:he looked _terrified_.

“What's wrong?”I asked, completely bewildered. “Didn't you see what you already knew?”

Matthias didn't respond-but Riley did. “He sees the true endgame now. He fears it deep down into the marrow.”

“You're damn right I'm afraid,”Matthias snapped. “ _She_ never said _that_ was the plan.”

“They need to suffer.”Riley's voice became a terrible snarl. “They need to be broken for what they've done.”

“Someone needs to tell me what's going on here,”I interrupted sharply, completely nonplussed. “Riley?”

She glared at me, and it was like seeing something else in control of her body. The slant of her suddenly acid green eyes, the tightness in her arms and legs. Her expression. This wasn't Riley. This was something else entirely, something that seemed strangely familiar.

“Is that really what you want?”Matthias asked in a half-shocked whisper.

The thing that wore my friend's face revealed nothing. “Knights fall, and the end of all things. There is only victory in the breaking. He will become what he was, and what he will be, and the world will tremble.”

I turned to Matthias for a translation, but he was completely stunned, gaping at Riley in actual fear.

“I don't understand,”I admitted. “What's going on here?What's wrong with her?”I wasn't exactly brave as a lion, either:the way Riley was looking at me was enough to make me forget that she was in a hospital gown, or that we were even in a hospital. But I was more confused than afraid. I didn't get what Matthias could be so scared of.

“You will take your place as what you were, and will ever be, violet-eyed prince. Break the board and lay them all to waste.”

I forced myself not to flinch at her furious stare. “No,”I retorted vehemently, “I've already said I won't become that. I refuse.”

But my words fell flat.

Riley climbed up onto her knees, never taking her eyes off me. It was extremely creepy, the way that he head always stayed at the same angle, despite the contortions of her body. It was as if her head was the only static point on the entire bed, held in place by some sort of invisible ties.

“You _will_ ,”she insisted. “Or you will fall. Become what you fear most, or become nothing at all.”

When he finally shook himself out of his stupor, Matthias's voice was low and dark.“If you want any hope of stopping a monster like Lucien, you must become a monster yourself.”

*

My shirt was soaked with sweat by the time I made it down to the lobby after stumbling out of Riley's room. The nervous energy that had just started to build up a little had become a raging inferno once I got to the parking lot, and the freezing rain only made it worse. I was going to rip free of my skin and leave it behind. I was certain of it.

I didn't even think to arrange a ride back home to Jason's house. My feet started down the gravel path at the side of the parking lot, and before I knew it I was running like my life depended on it. The more speed I picked up, the more my heart rate increased and the more the racing fear was forcefully drowned out by everything else. Maybe it was just a temporary thing, but running managed to put some distance between me and Riley's prophecy and that was what I needed right now.

All the real players in Belle Dam were terrified of what Riley said I would become. Lucien had tried to kill Trey specifically to keep that vision of me from becoming a reality. Grace had stripped me of the witch eyes because of it. And Matthias was, I assumed, going against the wishes of his mysterious employer and refusing to help me because of what he'd seen.

I'd thought I put a stop to that vision myself by deciding not to be with Trey, but it looked like I'd been wrong. I didn't want to become that thing Grace had shown me, but it was starting to look like I didn't have a choice;at least, not if I wanted any chance of getting rid of Lucien and actually having a real life here. But was I really willing to risk sacrificing my humanity for that?

That question followed me all the way back home, though fortunately I was still alert enough to avoid getting run over or anything. But when I walked in Jason's front door, I found that there was once again someone waiting for me.

At least this time it was someone I actually wanted to see.

“Where have _you_ been?”Jade asked, her perfectly sculpted eyebrows rising as she took in my current state. I didn't blame her:I was probably flushed from running all the way home, and I was definitely drenched from being out in the rain again-and this time I didn't have any magic to clean myself up.

“Visiting Riley,”I said, not meeting her gaze as I walked past her towards the stairs. I didn't really want to tell her any more than that, so I kept my mouth shut as I made my way back to my bedroom, stopping briefly at the hallway closet to grab a dry towel.

Jade followed me the whole time, not waiting for me stop before speaking again. “Has she gotten any better?”she asked me, sounding like she was actually concerned but trying to pretend she wasn't.

I sighed and shook my head. “No,”I replied, thinking of what I had just seen in the hospital, the way Riley had been acting like a completely different person. She definitely hadn't gotten any better;if anything, she had gotten worse.

There was a brief silence, during which I sat down on my bed, shedding my dripping jacket before starting to towel myself off. After a moment's hesitation, Jade joined me.

She inhaled deeply, then apparently decided to just jump right in to what she'd really come here to talk about.

“Look, Braden, I know you and Trey are on the outs right now, but-”she started, but as soon as she said Trey's name, I held up a hand to stop her. “No,”I cut her off vehemently.

“Braden, come on,”she pleaded, looking at me beseechingly. “He loves you. He's cut all ties with Catherine because of you:he hasn't gone home, or even taken any of her calls since...well since that night. “She spoke each word with deliberate emphasis, watching me carefully for my response.

But I didn't know how to respond to any of it. On the one hand, I wanted to be happy that Trey was no longer acting like Catherine's perfect son after what she'd done;but on the other hand, the fact that his mother had killed my uncle wasn't the only reason I'd been trying to put some distance between us. We couldn't be together, no matter how much I wanted us to be.

Jade didn't know that, though, and I didn't want to tell her. So I just nodded, because that was all I could trust myself to do.

“He wants me to leave,”she added softly after another deep breath and a hard swallow. My head snapped up, staring at her as she continued. “He even called the school to see how many credits I had, to see if I had enough to graduate a semester early.”

Jade might be leaving?I hated that my first thoughts at this news were selfish ones, but I couldn't help it. _What am I going to do without her?_ We weren't what you'd call the closest of friends, but she'd always been _there_ for me, in a way that no one else had ever been. And our friendship was _normal_ :what I could do and who Jade's family was had very little to do with why we wanted to hang out together.

My heart lurched in my chest, and I had to duck my head down again. _It would be safer for her if she weren't here. Trey was right:none of us were safe in this town_.

“If I leave, I don't think I'll ever come back,”Jade said quietly, getting to her feet again and going to stand by my window. “I mean, there are some things I'd miss, of course, but most things I never wanted any part of. I don't want to have kids just to have them play starring roles in Bigotry part two. I'd rather get away while I still can, and go be fabulous somewhere else far away from here. “She turned back to me. “My aunt did that;did I ever tell you about her?”

I shook my head.

“She's Catherine's younger sister and, like me, she didn't want any part of all of this, so she ran away after high school. Now she lives in New York, and she's this crazy artist-which is weird because she and my mom look so much alike. But they became totally different people. She comes to visit every so often, to check in on Trey and me, but when she's with mom, it's always strained.”

I threw the towel I'd been using to dry myself over the bedpost-I was as dry as I was going to get without standing in front of a heater-and stuffed my hands in my pockets, waiting for Jade to finish.

“Maybe-”Jade hesitated again;I'd never heard her so unsure. “Maybe we could go. Together.” Her words picked up speed as she warmed up to the idea in her head, and she sat down next to me again, eyes uncharacteristically bright. “New York's a big city, Braden, We could start over, you and me. No crazy parents, no demons leering at us at all times. And, as for school, I can take my diploma early like Trey wants, and you can always finish there.”

I raised my eyebrows at her. “Come on, be serious,”I retorted incredulously, convinced she had to be joking.

Jade's enthusiasm dampened, and she flopped back on the bed next to me, her eyes wandering up to the ceiling. “I don't want to become my mother, Braden,”she confessed lowly, not looking at me. “I don't want to inherit this feud. All I want is a chance to make my own life. I deserve to be able to figure out who I am away from all this, and who I want to be for the rest of my life. We both do. And we can't do that while still living here.”

_She has a point_. I thought to myself, falling back so I was lying next to her. I'd come to Belle Dam on a whim, but I'd always been a part of it. Its power had always been a part of me. And I'd always thought, in the back of my head, that sooner or later it would kill me. But now it was gone, and I had to worry about everyone else trying to kill me. I'd never had a chance to think about what I'd do if things were different. Who I was if not the kid with the freaky eyes?If I wasn't the kid with overprotective uncle and the house in the middle of nowhere?If I wasn't the enemy of half the town?Going with Jade would give me the chance to find that out. But...

_There's still Jason. And Drew. Trey. And Riley, who's still broken and who I promised to try and fix._ I reminded myself, letting out a tiny sigh. I couldn't leave them behind. I couldn't run.

“I can't just leave, Jade,”I stated in an undertone, licking my lips tensely.

Jade reached out and put her hand on my wrist, interrupting me before I could say anything more. “Just think about it,”she requested. There was a faint buzzing noise, and she let out a sigh of her own, getting to her feet and pulling out her cellphone .

“I have to go,”she said regretfully, running her fingers through her hair. “But please, at least think about what I said. I know I can't possibly imagine what you're going through, but as long as you're still here, it's never going to get any better. And I don't want to see you get hurt again.”

She shot me one last furtive glance, and then she turned and walked out the door.

When she was gone, I closed my eyes, throwing an arm over them to block out the light. There was too much happening all at once. Ben's secret vendetta against me. Riley's prophecy. Now Jade's possible departure.

And I still had to dig out a suit for tomorrow. Because we were still burying my uncle the next morning.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

When a Thorpe died in Belle Dam, there were two services:one for the public, giving the people who'd spent their lives hating and fearing my uncle a chance to relax finally let those old feelings go. Where people who had never actually known or spoken to John while he'd been alive could grieve his death as publicly and obnoxiously as they wanted. It would be a standing-only room, with an eager town pressed in tight like cattle, falling over themselves for one last look.

_Death makes us irrelevant_ ,Jason had told me several days before. _When we're dead, we can't collect on old debts or make new threats. There's no longer any reason to fear us, so instead, people try to forget us._

But those kinds of feelings also tended to make some people cocky, and the last thing either side of the feud needed was for something to explode at the wrong moment. So Jason and I had a private service, with a priest who'd apparently known the family since my great-grandfather's time.

I'd never been to a funeral before:it wasn't nearly what I'd expected. Prayers were said, but they were strangely formal and formulaic. No mentions of God or talk about souls spirits-mostly it was a lot about “committing him to the earth” and talk about duty.

“I thought he'd never stop talking,”I grumbled when the priest had finally fallen silent, shoving my hands forcefully into the pair of black leather gloves Jason handed me.

“Father Patrick knew Jonathan as well as anyone else, Braden,”Jason retorted with the same air of fatigue that seemed to accompany everything he did lately. If I were a nicer person, I would have said that his brother's death was weighing heavily on him;but I wasn't a nicer person. I knew what was really going on:Jason hated to lose, and now he was coming up, forgive the pun, dead last.

“If you knew him at all, you'd know that he hated being called Jonathan,”I muttered under my breath. I was just happy to get out of the chapel with its stale stench of pretentious decay, and the priest, who looked as though he might be more at home with a knife and butcher's block.

Jason abandoned his attempt at parenting at the chapel doors as we went out into the Thorpe section of the cemetery. The fact that there was a family plot surprised me only a little. My mother's grave was in the city, as was the vacant grave that should have held me. But John had been a true Thorpe, with pure Thorpe blood running through his veins. He hadn't been a token offering for the town. As much as the Thorpes and Lansings pretended they were part of the city, they always held something back, keeping their blood to themselves.

_A cemetery full of Thorpes. I'll be buried here someday._ Jason was pragmatic enough to have already picked out my final resting place-I could ask him to show me it while we were here. _Especially since I might end up here a lot sooner than anyone suspects._

There was a code to the headstone engravings-Jason had pointed it out on our way in. _Augustus Thorpe, Taken By the Water_ was right next to his brother _James,_ who was _Lost Before His Time._ Every Thorpe, all the way to the first to settle in Washington, was either Taken or Lost. Taken by the neverending feud with the Lansings, or Lost to anything that didn't count as an act of war. It was quite sobering to see how few had been “Lost”.

“We'll be expected at the repast,”Jason reminded me for the thousandth time. _Repast_. Normal people had a wake after a funeral-but not Jason. It was always a _repast_ -and it had the sound of a particularly Belle Dam kind of tradition.

“I'm aware,”I muttered my reply without looking at him.

He looked down at his watch. “It's nearly ten. The funeral will be letting out soon.” His pace quickened, reminding me that his legs were longer than mine. He was taller than me-I'd never really noticed that before-taller than John had been. John had been taller than me.

Had been.

As such, it was a struggle for me to keep up with Jason, made all the more difficult by the sudden shifting of gravity around me. It was another dizzy spell:it came without warning, as blood suddenly ran to my head and everything blurred out of focus. I'd been getting these a lot lately-it was one of the many changes I'd had to get used to since losing my power.

But this one was different than the others:when the cemetery momentarily vanished from view, I glimpsed another. The one that held the grave of my mother, and the grave that was supposed to be mine.

It was only a brief, undetailed glimpse, but as the Thorpe cemetery came back into view, it brought to mind an interesting question. “Was Braden even supposed to be my name?”I asked suddenly.

Jason stopped and looked at me, startled out of his own thoughts. “What?”

“My name,”I reiterated. I didn't know why I was asking about this, but now that I had, I really wanted to know. “Did Uncle John pick?”When Jason continued to stare at me, I shrugged. “I was just wondering what they'll put on my headstone.”Because the one next to my mother's had been blank.

Actual _emotions_ crossed Jason's face, whipping by so fast that, at first, I thought I was seeing things:of the few things I knew about the man who was supposed to be my father, one of the most important was that he _never_ showed emotion. But, for just a moment, a brief flash of seconds, I caught shifts in his face, and, for the first time ever, I truly saw the resemblance between him and his brother. I'd always been able to read Uncle John's face like it was an open book, and, for just an instant, I was able to do the same with Jason.

Rage, frustration, and an anger that was really more despair than hatred flitted across his face, all eventually replaced by the same weary look I'd come to recognize all too well-a look that had my name written all over it.

“Your mother picked your name,”he finally responded, each word sharp like a knife. “Braden Michael Thorpe.”

Braden Michael Thorpe. I'd been raised as Braden Michaels. It made sense;it wasn't the most ingenious of secret identities, but, then again, it hadn't seemed like I'd really been in hiding so much as just being kept away from Belle Dam. After all, John and I had only moved once during my childhood, from the desert up to Montana.

Finally looking back at Jason, it appeared that those eight words had cost him something precious. _Does he really need to be reminded of this right now_?Jason and I might not have gotten along, but I didn't need to torture the guy.

“I was just curious,”I said offhandedly, trying to absolve at least some of the guilt I was currently feeling. My skin flushed, at first I thought because of embarrassment-but I quickly realized that it was something much more than that.

Ever since the night of Grace's attack, I'd felt _off_. Phantom pains stretched along my skin, nipping at me with increasing frequency. I'd had moments of vertigo so strong I'd had to lie down until they'd passed. Hot spells. Cold spells. Nausea. It felt like something was trying to rip its way out of me and my body wasn't handling it very well. Especially right now, when whatever it was wanted so badly for me to be numb. But I couldn't. Because that was me.

“We're going to be late,”Jason interrupted my stewing once again, and, just like that, our conversation was forgotten and Jason was in a hurry again. We couldn't be late to the _repast_ :we had a city full of condolences to accept.

I didn't care for the grief. Grieving people wanted to touch, wanted to _hug_ , and, if anything, it only made me want to be touched less. Any time anyone came close, even if they only wanted to pat me on the shoulders, I had to move away as quickly as possible. I couldn't let them touch me.

After all, this was all my fault. The feud, John's death, the slump in Jason's posture. I'd set all this in motion by coming to Belle Dam, and now it was far too late to leave.

I hunched my shoulders and fell silent again, keeping my lips pressed tightly together as I followed Jason into the car.

*

“The Harbour Club?”I said when the driver finally came to a halt.

“It's a large enough space to hold everyone,”Jason stated stiffly as the door was opened for him.

I suppressed a snort with difficulty. “And remind them all that Jonathan Thorpe was so much more important than they could ever hope to be,”I muttered caustically, stepping out onto the sidewalk. “Lucky them.”

The Harbour Club was Belle Dam's version of a country club-perfect for the port town with a need for pretense and class warfare;close to the harbour, its wall of windows looked out onto the bay that surrounded the city.

“The church had a meeting hall that they offered to us,”Jason said, sounding suddenly uncomfortable. “But I thought you might prefer something a little less...”

“A little less what?”I asked, raising an eyebrow.

Jason slid his cellphone back into the breast pocket of his suit. “I didn't know...I was never sure if...Jonathan was never very...”

“You didn't know if we went to church. If I'd be a comfortable with an actual church service,”I realized what he was trying to say. That explained why the service had been so formal, so carefully devoid of words like ''God'' and ''Heaven''.

Jason's jaw tightened, but he didn't respond.

_I really, really don't understand you_ , I thought as I watched him from beneath my dark lashes. He hadn't cried at all-but that didn't surprise me. Jason didn't strike me as the type to let anyone see any of his weaknesses.

But I hadn't cried, either. As volatile as my emotions had been for the last week, I hadn't even shed a single tear-I guess because I thought that, if I started to cry, I wouldn't be able to stop. I still felt like a freak, though:who buries the man who raised them and doesn't cry?Who doesn't even get the sniffles?

Did Jason cry at his father's funeral?I wondered. _There is the most fascinating tradition of patricide among the Thorpes,_ Lucien had whispered to me once. But Jason had resisted that tradition, he'd said, and Lucien had had to take matters into his own hands. Did Jason even know how his father had really died?Should I even tell him?

I didn't actually know what Jason thought about me. When I'd first come to town, it had been like I was just another item on his agenda, a shiny new toy that he'd just purchased. But later, after I'd been hurt, I became an inconvenience. And no matter how many doctors he threw at me, none of them could tell him how to make me useful again.

Now I was broken, and the list of people who wanted me dead seemed to be doubling every day. Unless I was under lock and key for the rest of my life, eventually one of them would come for me. And, just like when Lucien had come after me and John had been killed, Jason might not be there to stop them again.

“Where were you, when it happened?”I asked, the words stumbling out of my mouth before I could catch them. “Why weren't you here?”

I expected him to disappear, or to walk away without answering. But Jason stopped short again, and it wasn't until just then that I realized I'd yelled at him, accused him, and blamed him, but not once had I ever just _asked_ him.

“I...should have been here,”Jason admitted just as quietly, not looking at me.

“I tried to save him,”I choked out;it was cold enough outside that I could see my breath, so I focused on that instead of Jason “But I couldn't. It's my fault he died:I deserve everything that's happening to me. I deserve all of it.”

Jason lifted a hand and reached out, but I flinched and backed away. Some part of my brain expected to be hit, to be attacked again. Hurt. But Jason looked as though I'd been the one to attack _him_. I realized my mistake too late to do anything about it:before I could apologize or-I didn't even know-Jason's phone rang.

“I have to take this,”he bit out tersely. He didn't wait for me to respond, just spun around on his heel and turned his back on me.

I couldn't even play nice with Jason for an hour. What was wrong with me?I ducked my low and went inside, figuring the sooner I got inside, the sooner I could find some place to hide.

The Harbour Club was a paragon of elegance. Gleaming marble tile floors, and rich, creamy white walls. Spaced around the lower level today were blown up photos of a much younger Uncle John:school photos, birthday parties, family portraits, and pictures with Jason and a salt-and-pepper-haired man I took to be my grandfather.

I sifted through the crowd like a piece that didn't fit, sinking to the bottom while they all rose.

A bar was set up at the far end of the room, so I made my way there. A pair of women, dressed all in black, reclined against the counter, talking to each other, but with their attention more focused on everyone else:more interested in who spoke to whom, and where everyone was positioned.

I reached out and snagged a glass of white wine just as the bartender dropped it off for one of the women. Meeting here eyes, I took a sip, daring her to argue. The wine burned going down, but I refused to let it show. She knew who I was-it would surprise me if there was anyone here who _didn't_.

She didn't say a word, and my lips quirked up in a faint half-smile. I probably could have poured the drink over her head and she wouldn't have raised her voice. She might have later, in private when there was no one important around who might hear, but not now. Not when she was face to face with me. Not when all of her friends and neighbours were only a few footsteps away, ready to turn on her in a heartbeat.

“So sorry to hear,”the woman murmured, so softly I could barely hear her-but it didn't matter. I ignored the false sympathy. Even if it was sincere, I didn't deserve it. John's death was my fault. All of it was my fault.

So I drank. When the first glass was empty, I replaced it with a second. The bartender eyed me, but didn't hesitate to pour.

It was easy to tell when Jason arrive:crowds parted when Jason Thorpe walked into a room. His mask and armour were firmly in place, his expression and demeanour cold and aloof and utterly impassive. He could have been getting his taxes done, not burying his brother.

Almost immediately, _he_ was besieged with thinly veiled condolence calls. There were tears, handkerchiefs, and trembling, but very little truth-and Jason accepted all of it like he was a stone. Everyone knew that the brothers weren't close, that John had fled years ago, but that didn't stop their attempts at seeking favour.

All in all, it was quite a performance-on their part, and on Jason's. He acted completely inscrutable, like nothing could ruffle his feathers-but I knew I could. I was insanely good at driving him insane.

I watched him for a couple of minutes, the burning in my gut bringing a surprising amount of relief. I should be feeling _something_ ;if it had to be pain I'd caused myself, then it would have to do.

Jason mingled his way through the crowd, taking time to talk to everyone who approached. I must have heard him give a dozen variations of “we appreciate your concern” and “thank you for coming”.

With everyone distracted by Jason, I was able to drop my glass on a table and slip through the crowd unnoticed, heading toward the far end of the room where there was a staircase that lead to the second floor. A week ago, it was where I'd had one of my first real confrontations with Catherine Lansing-where she'd toyed with me while pretending not to know why girls were disappearing in her city.

From my second floor vantage point, I watched the crowds move about. There were hardly any familiar faces, just those trying to win favour from Jason or get me to win it for them. I was on the lookout for Lucien, the demon in the three-piece-suit, though, because there was no way he'd miss this. He'd been manipulating events in Belle Dam for a long time, until I'd come along and became a large thorn in his side. One of the few things I'd had to be proud of since coming here.

But today wasn't about me, and it definitely wasn't about demons. It was about my uncle, and the bitch who'd taken him from me. I'd promised to kill her:it was only fair. When John had tried to kill Catherine's husband, she'd retaliated by killing my mother. At least, that was what the stories said. The papers suggested a different story:that my mother had been ''sick'', that there was an ''accident''-coded words that implied a suicide that might not have been self-inflicted at all.

I felt the shadow closing in on me before he appeared at my side. I could see both stairways from where I stood, which meant he hadn't come from the lower floor. He must have been on the balcony outside, the one that faced the city instead of the bay. He'd been waiting for me. I didn't know how he knew I'd come up here, but he did.

I spoke over my shoulder, not trusting myself to turn around. “You can't be here,”I stated, fingers clenching over the marble railing.

“You need me,”he retorted quietly. I closed my eyes. If I looked to my right, I knew what I would find:a boy, only a few years older and a few inches taller than me. Strong and solid. And nothing like his mother.

“Go away, Trey.”

“No.”

“Please,”I begged in a whisper, still refusing to look at him.

His response was just as soft. “No.” A hand reached out hesitantly, and grabbed the back of my coat. My eyes flew open at the same instant that Trey started pulling me backwards, away from the prying eyes downstairs.

He dragged me into one of the corners, half-hidden by a potted ficus. I focused on the plant, the way its leaves curled down, as if they were shamed. I didn't want to look at him.

Trey took one of my hands and set it against his waist. Then the other. Then he carefully wrapped his arms around me, pulling me tight against him.

“It'll be okay,”he told me, his cheek pressed to my ear.

But it wouldn't. He knew that. I knew it, too.

I counted to ten:that was all the time I allowed myself to have. Long enough to memorize the way his arms slid over me, familiar and new all at the same time. His head pressed against mine, his breath on my skin.

I pulled myself and pushed at him until there was an icy hollow between us. I couldn't do this-I couldn't let myself fall under Trey's spell again. I couldn't let myself forget that my feelings for him were the reason I'd lost the only real family I'd ever known-that if we'd never been, I wouldn't have had to bury my uncle today.

I had to remind myself-and him. And I had to make it hurt.

“Do you know what I see when I look at you?”I said, licking my lips as the blood rushed to my head again and tore at my balance.

“Braden, don't,”Trey implored.

But I paid him no mind. This was the price of getting what you wanted:you had to serve penance. The words had to be said out loud. “I see _her_. I see the look on her face when she killed him. I see the way he hit the ground and I can hear that last little gasp of air. The one that said he was dead already.”

Trey was marble, sharp and perfect, his face utterly expressionless as I continued. “He's dead because of me. Because I was weak.”

He shook his head in denial. “That's not true,”Trey whispered insistently.

“Your mom's going to come for me, and there's nothing I can do to stop her,”I declared. “I', all used up inside. She probably won't even have to break a sweat.”

“She won't,”Trey said, but with the air of someone who didn't really believe what he was saying. And I called him on it. “You don't know that.”I shrugged. “I'd do the same if I could.”

“No, you wouldn't,”Trey maintained stubbornly. “You're better than they are.”

“I'm really not.”I walked back over to the landing, looking down at the party:that's what it really was. Everyone might have been dressed in shades of black, and there might have been a hint of true melancholy in the air-but this was a party with eager eyes and electric anticipation in the air.

“Don't you get it?If I had my power, I wouldn't care. From here, I could stop her heart.”My voice was one of frigid calm. I couldn't control it-I told myself that this was all in the name of convincing Trey that we couldn't be together. “I wouldn't fight fair-Thorpes never do.”

“You're not a Thorpe.”

I pretended I didn't hear him, though, and I plowed on relentlessly. Musing on all the ways I would commit murder if ever given the chance. “I could take a page from her book and poison the food-but that would be too impersonal for me. I'd need to see _her_ eyes catch in surprise, that last imprint before she's gone.”

“Stop,”Trey beseeched. But I couldn't. I couldn't stop-not until he got the message.

“I remember exactly what she did, you know,”I stated casually, again not looking at him. “I saw it. What it looked like, how it felt. So effortless. Just...”I snapped my fingers”And it's over.”

“Braden...”But Trey didn't have anything else to say. I knew this wasn't fair to him, that this had to be hard on him, too. He'd watched his mother kill John just as I had. Penance, though. It had to be done.

“Where would you be right now, if that night had gone differently?If their plan had failed and John was still alive?”

I could feel him staring at me, knew his expression would be one of perplexity. His fingers were probably tapping against the front of his pants, a restless rhythm betraying his nerves.

“We'd still be in our funeral best today,”I continued, still speaking as if we were merely discussing the weather. “This might have been her wake.”

There was a pause. “I don't know what you're expecting me to say,”Trey stated helplessly.

I closed my eyes again. “No. You're a good son. You'd be with her.” I opened them again and turned slowly to face him. “You don't have to worry about that, though. She's not the one who's going to die.”

He lunged forward, putting his hands on my shoulders. He started to say something-but was interrupted by the rise of a commotion on the first floor. And I could guess what the cause was.

I should have known that she would show up. She wouldn't miss this:it wouldn't be a real victory if she couldn't lord it over the competition-but I still felt an uncontrollable wave of rage and _pain_ when I saw her walk into the club.

Catherine Lansing had made her appearance. And she wasn't alone.

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

They strode into the fray, arm-in-arm, both dressed immaculately and to suit the occasion:Catherine in a black pantsuit, and Lucien in a pinstripe suit, black as well.

I should have known they'd come together:neither of them would miss the chance to rub their victory in my face. Neither of them would miss an opportunity to gloat about the fact that I was now broken and no longer a threat to Catherine's precious empire. But, even so, seeing Lucien's thin-lipped smile and Catherine looking just as imperious as ever made my stomach churn and boil.

“Oh shit,”I heard Trey exclaim in a horrified whisper from behind me. I felt him reach out to me, either as a gesture of comfort or to prove to himself that he wasn't his mother's pawn anymore-I wasn't sure-but my body moved before he could make contact.

I was on autopilot, practically flying down the stairs before I actually knew what i was doing. All I could think was this wasn't right. John's killer shouldn't be strutting around his wake. There was nothing right about that.

As I reached the bottom of the staircase, all eyes were on me. I didn't bat an eyelid:I was used to that happening any time anytime I walked into a room without my sunglasses. The witch eyes had always commanded attention, with their constant shifting colours. Now that they were frozen on just a single shade, however, it had become more of a plea.

I charged straight through the center of the crowd, moving faster than I'd ever thought I could, not stopping until Catherine and I were face-to-face. Until I was looking into the eyes of the woman who had ruined my life.

Strangely, I didn't feel an ounce of fear when I looked at her or Lucien. All I felt was rage-and I wasn't shy about letting _everyone_ know it.

“What the hell are you doing here?”I spit at her, just barely able to keep myself from shouting, glare sharpening into daggers.

I expected to see something there when I spoke. I expected her expression to be cruel, or vicious, or mocking. She'd drawn her line in the sand, made it clear where ambitions lay by killing my uncle. I expected her to be taunting me by showing up here today;but her face was oddly blank-walled off and completely void of, well, anything, really.

Up close, I was able to see that Catherine didn't look well at all. In fact, she looked to have suffered a lot since the last time we'd met:her skin was much paler than I'd ever seen it before, and the heavy layer of makeup she wore couldn't conceal how sunken her cheeks had become.

Beneath my fury, there was a slight shiver of vindication as I noticed those things. It was good she wasn't her usual self;after what she'd done to me, she deserved to lose herself. She deserved any and every bit of unpleasantness that came her way.

“They'll let anyone into these things,”Lucien murmured in a low drawl, eyeing me all throughout my approach. He was clearly looking to get a rise out of me-but I barely even looked at him. My animosity was all for Catherine at that moment.

“Pipe down, the humans are talking,”I shot back without breaking my stare, boring holes into Catherine's impassive eyes with the sole purpose of unnerving her.

She simply raised an eyebrow at me, though, as though bemused by my words. “Are we now?”she said, meeting my glare coolly.

“Braden, come on.”Trey was suddenly in between us, pressing a hand against my chest. Pushing me away from his mother. Protecting one of us, but I didn't know who. “Don't.”

But I wouldn't be deterred.

“Come here to gloat?”I snarled. “I would have thought that was beneath you, Catherine. Or did you come here to finally end this?Are you finally going to put me out of both our misery?”

“Braden,”Trey pleaded with me softly, still trying to keep me from making a scene. But I didn't care. I wanted a scene. I wanted everyone to _know_ , so whatever happened next, they would know who was to blame. I spread my arms wide, as if inviting:the international symbol for “come at me, you psycho witch bitch”.

“Come on, Catherine,”I goaded her furiously. My skin was hot, my insides burned and my rage was shutting out all reason. “ _Kill me_. Or don't you have the guts?”

It was like someone had pressed a mute button on the entire room:all of the conversational din surrounding us had completely ceased and my voice was ringing out through the room like I was speaking through a microphone.

Several tense seconds passed in complete and utter silence. I didn't think anyone in the room even dared to breathe while they waited on Catherine's reaction. I could feel them all around me, the people who had grown up in this feud and had never before witnessed a confrontation between a Thorpe and a Lansing quite like this. There were no agendas to hide behind, no minions mouthing words written by someone else. There was just me, and her.

The city held its breath.

Predictably, Catherine didn't rise to my challenge, choosing to cater to her audience instead of really dealing with the the problem. _She_ didn't want a scene. “Deal with this,”she declared tensely, framing her voice just loud enough to carry to the ring of observers around us. They would eagerly spread her response for her and she won't have to resort to raising her voice in order to combat my fury.

When she returned her gaze to me, it was with the cold, empty mask I'd seen her wear so many times before when she was dealing with people who she thought were irrelevant. Like to her, I didn't matter.

“I came to pay my respects,”she stated clearly. “A pity if that offends you.”

I couldn't suppress a snort.

“Your respects?”I sneered, still trembling with fury.

“You are _unbelievable_ ,”Trey finished for me, still by my side with one hand still braced in front of me. There was no way Catherine could have missed the unbridled contempt in either of our voices. But she pretended not to care-or even notice-anyway.

She took a step forward, her eyes measuring mine. “You are a very _stupid_ boy,”she breathed softly, her lips barely moving, her whisper just loud enough for me to hear-and for there to be no chance that anyone else would.

That single sentence brought my rage to all new levels. I lost the ability to speak:being in front of her like this, seeing her breathe and blink and with the faintest hint of anger blossoming in her cheeks, it was just too much. Being reminded that Catherine was still alive, and that John was dead because of her, and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it, I just couldn't deal with it.

_Oh no._ Tears that I'd spent more than a week expecting suddenly sprang to my eyes and my vision shimmered for once because of weakness and not because of magic. This couldn't be happening. Not now. Not in front of _them_.

“You should go,”Trey said coldly, narrowing his eyes at Lucien and his mother. I didn't know which one of them he was addressing, but I doubted either of them would listen. I could have told him he was wasting his time-but I wanted to see what they would do.

Now that I'd run out of steam against Catherine, I found my eyes turning to the demon for the first time as he clicked his tongue with mock disapproval. “Now, Gentry, that's no way to talk to your mother,”he chided with an attempt at his usual aplomb, but this time it seemed almost forced.

As I looked closer, I noticed that Lucien wasn't his usual immaculate self, either;if Catherine looked bad, then he looked even worse. Sure, he was still dressed in a suit that probably cost more than this entire funeral, but there were wrinkles and a layer of something that looked like dust covering it, like he'd been wearing it for several days in a row.

What was more, his hair was in complete disarray, falling over his head in a heap;and his skin, like Catherine's was sallow and pulled tight over his bones, almost like he was malnourished or something. Under other circumstances, that sight would have cheered me up-but not at that moment. At that moment, all I wanted to do was get out of there.

“I was-”Trey started to retort, but he cut himself off when I brushed past him-and Catherine-and headed straight for the exit without looking back.

“Braden, wait,”I heard him call after me, no doubt following close at my heels-but I ignored him and just kept walking.

Unfortunately, Trey's legs were longer than mine, so it didn't take him very long to catch up to me. “Braden, I'm sorry. I didn't know she was going to show up,”he said sincerely.

“Of course she was. She wasn't going to miss a chance to lord her victory over me,”I bit out without stopping, picking up speed to try and discourage him from continuing to follow me. “She won:I'm no longer a threat to her and took away the only real family I've ever had.”

“You still have me,”Trey stated quietly, refusing to give up.

I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head. “You either refuse to get it, or you never will.”We were a few feet from Jason's house when I finally forced myself to turn around and look up at him. “I keep telling you I can't do this, but you just don't listen. You keep thinking it's going to be okay, like I'm going to just forget what happened and we can just be together and life will be grand. But that's not how it works, Trey. Your mother may not have killed me today, but eventually someone will. Someone will make a move and then that'll be it.”

“Why won't you let me help you?”he pleaded.

I turned away, closing the last bit of distance between me and refuge. He just wouldn't accept that he couldn't help with this, would he?I guess that was just how he was wired. He wanted to save me;even if he didn't know how, he wanted me to be okay. I couldn't say that I wouldn't do the same for him. After all, I had done it before.

But he'd want to keep me out of danger and that wasn't possible. I was in danger every moment, and if I wanted to do anything about it, I was going to have to kick the hornets' nest even more than I already had. He wouldn't want me to do that:that was why I couldn't do things the way he wanted me to.

“There's nothing you can do,”I muttered, more to myself than to him as I reached my front door. “You can't help me with this. I have to help myself.”

I opened the door and stepped inside;but Trey stopped me before I could close it.

“Braden-”he tried again, but he was cut off by another voice this time.

“Hey, Wonder Boy, does Jason have anything good in his liquor cabinet?Cause I'm going to need something strong if I have to share a roof with your pretty boy Rom-oh hey Gentry.”Drew came striding out of the hall, offering Trey a full, bright smile when he caught sight of him.

Trey barely even spared him a glance. “Braden,”he repeated desperately. “Please.”

That soft, plaintive almost broke my resolve. I couldn't decide what I wanted more:to push him away, or to pull him close.

It shouldn't have felt like a choice between him and Drew, but that's what it came down to. And I made my decision. “I'm sorry, Trey,”I whispered, setting my jaw and trying to keep my hands from trembling as I turned around and closed the door in his face.

Leaning back against it, I closed my eyes and let out a heavy, shaking breath. That was one of the hardest things I'd ever had to do:unfortunately, I didn't think things were going to get any easier.

 

 

 

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

I could feel Drew’s eyes on me as I braced myself against the door with my eyes closed, trying to regain some semblance of composure.

“So,”I heard the Shifter drawl, drawing the single word out into two elongated syllables;I could picture the half-amused, half-puzzled look he was probably shooting me after what he’d just witnessed. “What’s up with you and Gentry? Trouble in paradise?”

I shook my head, opening my eyes to fix him with a weary look:pushing Trey away had sapped nearly all my strength-I didn’t know if I had any left to deal with Drew.

The tie around my neck was starting to feel like a noose, so I started to tug at it, nearly ripping it off. I hated this. I hated that I couldn’t be with Trey;I hated that I had to keep him away from me, and, most of all, I hated that I’d had to bury my uncle today because I hadn’t been able to keep him from being killed.

With a sudden burst of energy, I threw the tie to the ground. The cuff links Jason had loaned me for the funeral went tink, tink, tinkling away soon after, swallowed up by the dark cherry wood floor-I think one of the buttons of my shirt followed suit.

I expected Drew to make another comment, to press me to answer his question;but he just stared at me, looking uncharacteristically cautious and not saying another word.

I was practically heaving by the time I was done;my shirt was unbuttoned, my jacket a pool of fabric on the floor. But I still didn’t feel entirely comfortable. “I need to change,”I muttered, heading for the stairs before Drew could say anything, sarcastic or otherwise. I needed to finish getting out of that suit before I could handle his particular brand of conversation.

Without another word, I headed for my bedroom.

When I reached its-relative-safety, I kicked the door shut and continued getting undressed, my heart pounding in my ears. My mind was still reeling;I’d known today wasn’t going to be fun, but I didn’t think it would be _this_ terrible. That funeral, with all those people pretending to mourn John when, really, they barely even knew him, or were just trying to curry favour with Jason. Catherine and Lucien showing up like they actually had a right to be there-like they hadn’t been co-conspirators in John’s murder. And then, everything that had gone on between Trey and I…

It would have been so easy to just let Trey comfort and protect me like he so obviously wanted to;but being with him was part of the reason why I was in this mess in the first place. If we were together, it was pretty much guaranteed that that vision of us would come true. And, even if it would help me get back at Catherine and Lucien for everything they’d done, it would be at the cost of a lot of other innocent lives-so I couldn’t let that happen.

I sighed as I went over to my closet to pull out some different clothes;nothing was ever simple in my life, was it?

*

A half hour later, I couldn’t keep my leg still. After changing into something a little less…suffocating, I’d gone back downstairs and found Drew in the kitchen, where I’d promptly devoured everything in sight. I didn’t even realize I was hungry until after I’d nearly licked the first plate clean-and then proceeded to pile up another one.

The food tasted weird, bland, but my body was on autopilot and didn’t seem to care very much;it still consumed everything without throwing any of it back up.

Drew joined me-probably because he felt weird just sitting there and watching me eat-and, between the two of us, we probably ingested enough food for a small army. I should have been sick, but instead, I was just restless.

It was just us in the house, and it was oppressively quiet. I hadn’t caught a glimpse of any of Jason’s staff, not even the grumpy, iron-haired woman who ran the household and did most of the cooking, and I wondered briefly what she would think of Drew and I eating all of this.

Drew leaned back in his chair across from me, its legs teetering in the air. His eyes watched my leg. “Anxious?”

I meant to deny it, meant to hide behind a lie, like I always did, but instead, I nodded.

“Come on,”he said abruptly, springing to his feet.

“Where are we going?”I asked slightly warily, reluctant to go anywhere until I knew what we were doing;no matter how restless I was, just blindly following Drew somewhere was not a good idea.

Unmindful of my trepidation, Drew grabbed me by the arm and started dragging me toward the rear of the house before answering. “We’re going to work out, see if we can’t put some of that nervous energy of yours to good use.”

I wrestled out of his grip, but continued to follow him after only a second’s hesitation. That didn’t sound like a bad idea.

But, before I was even out the back door, I discovered that, yes, trusting Drew _was_ a bad idea. After less than five minutes of him bobbing and weaving, slapping me on the back of the head, my anxiety wasn’t getting better-it was just being compounded with anger.

We hadn’t gone far, just out onto the covered patio that sat tucked between two wings of the house. Even Drew didn’t seem like he wanted to risk much more than that.

I’d been told, time and time again, that the safest place for me was inside the house. But even Jason would admit with some reluctance, as long as I stayed close, I could still go outside. Not into the woods, of course-I had to stay on the property.

Not that the house had been very safe for me the other night. I’d gotten out somehow;whatever Ben had done with my blood had gotten him around all of Jason’s defenses.

Drew cuffed me again before I could get too bogged down by the memories of that night;it didn’t really hurt, though. What it did do was give me a focus for my anger. I couldn’t beat Lucien. I couldn’t beat Ben. But maybe I could beat on Drew a little-so, instead of blocking his pot shots, I started taking ones of my own.

Drew barked out a laugh-but just the one. The air around us shifted sharply, and, as we continued trading blows, so did his mood. It stopped being about a little horsing around between friends, and started being about competition. Just because Drew was bigger than me didn’t mean that he had the right to push me around. No one had that right. I wasn’t going to let Drew, of all people, victimize me, too.

My muscles seemed to stretch out in relief, and I suddenly found myself moving with the same sort of heightened agility that made Drew a threat in a proper fight. My awareness of my body seemed to pull back until I was like a spectator in my own skin. It was different from the puppet-like feeling I’d had the other night-I hadn’t been in control of anything, then. But now, I was, and I was also so much more _aware_.

Drew landed some hits on me-blows softened so he wouldn’t leave me black and blue, I was sure-but I made sure he never caught me off guard the same way twice. The faster he moved, the more he bobbed, the more I weaved and blocked and countered him. It only seemed off to me for a moment, the way I was picking up skill quicker than I thought I should be-then I just stopped thinking about it.

It became a dance. Drew would throw a punch, I’d glide out of the way and retaliate with a job of my own. His expression got tighter and tighter the longer we went on, irritation framing his face.

Suddenly, he bounced back a couple of steps, wiping his forehead off with the back of his hand only to go suddenly still. The tension left his face, and he smirked, looking at something over my shoulder. “Oh hey, Gentry. Got him nice and sweaty for you,”he called.

I spun around rapidly, my focus cracking like a lake during spring thaw.

But there was no sign of Trey. I started to turn around again, to ask Drew what the hell he thought he was trying to pull, when my legs were swept out from underneath me and I fell to the ground.

“And that,”Drew panted. “Is why you never let yourself get distracted. Now what the hell was _that_?”

I waited for the sky to stop spinning before I even started to consider his words. The way I’d moved, the way my body had responded…that wasn’t me. More mysteries. More things about myself I didn’t fully understand.

Unable to explain it, I tried for a distraction. “Um, you’re a good teacher?”I offered;soothing Drew’s ego usually seemed to work.

But Drew snorted, clearly not buying it. “Try again,”he said, offering me a hand up.

With his help, I climbed to my feet;as I stood, I found that, for the first time in days, my body felt calm. _Sated_ , like a good fight was I’d needed to get me through. I wasn’t sure I liked that-I definitely wasn’t sure I wanted to tell Drew, but I knew he wouldn’t accept another evasion.

So, I just shrugged. “I have no idea,”I admitted truthfully. "My powers are gone, but lately, it's been seeming like something has else has taken their place."

 

I didn't know what I expected Drew to say-probably something sarcastic or flippant-but he didn't say anything. He didn't have any more idea what was going on with me than I did.

*

After Drew left, I called Jade.

"Hey," she answered after the first ring, sounding uncharacteristically uneasy. "How are you doing?"

I inhaled deeply. That was a pretty loaded question. I'd just buried my uncle, the wake was crashed by his murderer and my nemesis and then I'd come home and gotten smacked around by Drew for a couple of hours. Truthfully, I didn't really know how I was doing, and, since Jade was really the only person I could be serious and honest with, that was exactly what I told her.

"I don't know," I admitted, slumping back on my bed and pinching the bridge of my nose. "I could really use that trip to New York."

There was an awkward pause.

"Yeah, about that." I could practically how tense Jade was through the phone at the mention of New York. "Catherine found out we want to leave. Lucien told her."

My eyebrows shot up. "How?"I asked.

Static crackled in my ears as Jade let out a sigh. "I don't know, but a new pair of sunglasses says it involved entrails," she replied, trying for a light tone, but I could tell she was seriously irked.

I, on the other hand, should have been surprised. Lucien had the ability to see the future as a series of threaded timelines that split off from each other at the slightest deviation. I'd tapped into his power before and been almost immediately overwhelmed. At any given moment, there are thousands upon thousands of possibilities in play. Our conversation last night must have triggered something, set a particular future into motion or something.

"Anyway, Catherine has me on lockdown," Jade continued. "Otherwise I would have come to the funeral. From what Trey told me, you probably could have used me there."

I grimaced. "Trey told you what happened?"

I could just see the look on Jade's face as I said that. "Of course he did. Braden, what were you thinking, going after her like that?" she chided, sounding more like a disapproving parent than my friend.

"I was thinking that my uncle's murderer and her pet demon had no business being anywhere near his funeral. I wasn't going to just let her walk around like she owned the place."

Jade let out another sigh.

"But threatening her in front of the whole town and Lucien when you don't even have your powers to back it up?Do you have a death wish or something?"

A chuckle left my lips at the irony of that statement.

"Even if I did, it hardly matters;obviously, Catherine didn't rise to the bait," I said ruefully, forehead knotting. "No one is. I don't have my powers anymore;all of my enemies should be lining down the block to get their pound of flesh, but for some reason, I'm still here. Don't you think that's weird?"

"Honestly, I think it's lucky-really lucky. And you should do whatever you can to get out of here while that luck holds," Jade stated in an even more uncharacteristically reasonable tone.

"But if Catherine already knows about New York-"

"We'll figure something else out,"Jade promised firmly.

My frown deepened. I wanted to believe that-I really did. But I knew the moment we started to do anything, Lucien would know. He would know exactly where to strike to cut us off at the knees. He'd see right through any attempt at subterfuge.

That was the main problem in wanting to work against Lucien:the only way to really get the best of him was to be truly random. I hadn't planned to shoot him in the head, which must have been the only reason it worked.

I didn't want to dampen Jade's hope, though, so I didn't tell her any of that. Instead, I just nodded and changed the subject. "Let's talk about something else. I don't want to think about this right now."

It probably wasn't what Jade wanted to do, but for once she heeded me and started talking about school.

I tried to relax as I listened to her, stretching my arm up and tucking it behind my head. I tried to make myself forget about all of the horrible things that were going on in my life-at least for the time being-and just focus on Jade's words. It was a nice distraction for a little while, but, unfortunately, it didn't last.

After only a few moments, Jade cut off, and then let out another sigh. "Sorry, Braden, but I have to go. I can hear Catherine coming up the stairs and I'm not supposed to be on my phone. I'll text you later, though, if I can."

And she hung up before I had a chance to say goodbye.

I put the phone down on my nightstand and threw myself back against the pillows, feeling exhaustion seep into my veins. It was still pretty early, but the stress of the day had officially leached all of the energy from my body;before I knew it, I was asleep.

 

 

 

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

I knew something was wrong when I woke up to find Jason standing at the foot of my bed.

"Braden," he said as soon as he saw that I was awake, sounding like he was speaking to someone on their deathbed. "There's been an accident."

I sat up like I'd been electrocuted. "Where?Who?What happened?"

Jason's expression was grim as he responded. "Your friend, the one who's in the hospital; apparently, she ran out into the road last night and got hit by a car a few miles away."

 _No._ My mind screamed at me. I looked down at myself;I was still wearing my clothes from the previous day, so I didn't waste time with changing and was out the door before Jason could say another word.

*

I arrived just in time to watch the EMT’s wheel Riley into the emergency ward. She looked even worse than the last time I’d seen her. Her arms and legs were all scraped up like she’d been running through a thorn bush or something; her hospital gown was all torn up and spotted with blood. There was a large gash on her right thigh, and it was drenching the plastic gurney they had her on with red fluid.

She was thrashing again, head whipping back and forth wildly while her limbs flailed around her in a sickly dance. They’d strapped her down, but it didn’t seem to be making much difference.

“Sir, you can’t be in here,”I heard the receptionist call to me as I followed the unit into the treatment area;I ignored her, though, and kept walking, resisting all attempts to keep me away. This was one of my best friends, and from the looks of things, she just nearly died-again. I wasn’t going to let anyone stop me from being here-not this time.

I watched as they transferred Riley onto a cot and started working on treating her wounds. They had to hold her down while they cleaned and bandaged her leg and head-but the more they tried, the more she struggled, and the louder she began to spew out her crazy riddles.

“The gates are locked, but they will not be denied. The tide is turning. The cannon is aimed,”she all but shouted, hands curling into fists and punching at the bed, fighting against the nurses’ restraining holds.

I didn’t know how to feel at first;but the longer I watched her, watched her be bound to that bed, watched all those tubes and needles and things being stuck into her while all I could do was stand there, the more my anger started to return.

Catherine and Lucien coming to my uncle’s funeral had been bad enough, but Riley getting hurt again?I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to do something to put a stop to this.

When all the nurses and people had eventually left, Riley, strangely, finally seemed to settle down. She was still murmuring, but she was no longer thrashing;she’d gone back to rocking-as much as she could with all the wires coming out of her and the straps around her wrists and ankles.

I took a quick glance around to make sure no one was looking, before stepping closer to her bed, my lips compressing into a thin line. She looked even worse up close, and, with the witch eyes gone, there wasn’t anything I could do to help. In addition to being defenseless, I was now completely and utterly useless.

I shook my head ruefully. Was this what Grace had wanted?For me to be left with nothing and no one?John was dead, I couldn’t fix Riley, and, perhaps worst of all, I couldn’t be with Trey-not if it meant becoming what Grace thought I would;although, furious as I was, I was starting to seriously question whether that would really be such a bad thing.

Inhaling deeply, I leaned over so I could look Riley in the face. I didn’t think I would get a straight answer, but I had to ask: “What do I do?”

Riley’s head snapped toward me so abruptly that I had to take a step back in shock. And that was nothing compared to my reaction when she actually spoke in something other than her usual crazy talk.

“You need the violet eyes. The world will fall at your feet, the white lady, and the Rider along with it. You will have your justice-and your answer.”

Okay, so still kind of cryptic, but I knew what she was telling. I knew, because it was similar to what Matthias had said to me the last time I’d been here.

“You know what you have to do;the question is, do you have the guts to do it?”

“ _Forgotten hells, aren’t you bored with being the victim by now?!Do something new!”the Grimm asked, an unusual sharpness cutting at his words. “Be the villain. Be_ interesting.”

He’d been pushing me to go after Lucien, but the Rider wasn’t the only one I wanted to make pay. Him, Grace, and Catherine;they’d all pushed me so far, tried to manipulate me for so long I barely knew what decisions were mine anymore. I had to make it stop. I couldn’t keep going on like this,

I crossed the sterile white hospital wing to the window on the other side, and pushed aside the drapes so I could look through the slightly grimy glass.

_The city could use a villain like you_

“Knights fall, and the end of all things. There is only victory in the breaking. He will become what he was, and will be, and then, the world will tremble.” That was what Riley had said last time;after I had tried to get Matthias to help me, he’d looked into my soul and seen something that had terrified him beyond words. Everyone seemed so scared by the prospect of what I _could_ become-even now that I’d made the decision to make sure that it would never happen. I had seen for myself the potential future, and I hadn’t wanted it.

But could it really be worse than my current paralysis, just waiting for one of my innumerable enemies to finally decide to end me once and for all?

I could see the lighthouse from here, where I knew Grace was hiding, and where she had stolen my powers. She was the most scared of what I would become-that was why she’d done it. And she’d said that my relationship with Trey was what would lead to it. Her exact words had been “the alignment of Thorpe and Lansing will cause the constellations themselves to shudder and collapse.”

I should know-I’d been hearing those words over and over again in my head every night since she’d first said them.

I’d told Trey we couldn’t be together because his mom had killed my uncle;but it was mostly because of the vision that Grace had shown me. I didn’t want to become that.

Or, at least, I hadn’t.

I swallowed hard and closed my eyes. Lucien, Catherine, Grace, Trey, Jade, Drew, Matthias, Jason, Ben, Riley;there were so many people that would be affected by whatever decision I made right now. I didn’t much care about most of them, but my friends, Jason, and Trey, any of them could be targeted. Every one of them would be in danger as long as I was still without my powers.

Which made my decision all the easier.

I opened my eyes, and cast one final look at Riley. She was right. I knew what I had to do to finish this-to make everything fall into place. I just hadn’t had the guts to do it.

Until now.

I was done playing everyone else’s game, and, most of all, I was done being a victim. It was time everyone started playing _my_ game. And it was time for me to play the villain.

As I exited the hospital room, I withdrew my cellphone from my pocked and pressed 1 on the speed dial.

“Jade, hey, it’s Braden,”I said when the line picked up, schooling my voice into a carefully casual tone. “I was just wondering: do you happen to know the address of where Trey is staying? I have something I need to talk to him about in person.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings for this chapter:smut, slightly non-con, ooc braden. also this is probably really badly written because I have like hardly any ability to write first-person smut so bear with me

_You shouldn’t be doing this,_ my mind screamed at me as I approached the cabin where Jade had told me Trey was currently staying-but I wasn’t listening. I was done trying to do things the nice way-if I wanted to finally get back at Lucien and Catherine, I had to start playing dirty.

The place would have been difficult to find:it was on the very edge of town, down a dirt road that I definitely wouldn’t have found on my own. Luckily, Jade had driven me here without too many questions. She probably thought Trey and I were going to make up. And we were-sort of.

When we’d pulled up in front of the cabin, almost completely swallowed by the trees, I’d hesitated for a second. It had a certain ‘’this is where the serial killer hides the bodies’’ quality to it;but I’d reasoned that what I was planning to do here wasn’t much better than stashing dead bodies, so I’d gotten out of the car, thanked Jade for the ride, and plowed ahead without any more preamble.

I knocked slightly impatiently on the front door, stuffing my hands into my pockets. I probably should have been nervous or something, but, for some reason, I wasn’t. I didn’t feel anything, except determination.

Trey answered the door after a couple of minutes, and his reaction at seeing me was pretty much what I’d expected:a mix of shock and confusion.

“Braden,” he greeted me with a tentative smile. “What are you doing here? Is everything okay?”

I felt my lips curl into a smile of their own accord.  “Everything’s fine,” I heard myself say in a reassuring tone. I made a show of looking over his shoulder into the cabin. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

A crease appeared between Trey’s brows, probably bemused at my uncharacteristically chipper tone, but he stepped aside and held the door open so I could enter, anyways.

I could feel Trey watching me as I crossed the threshold, no doubt trying to figure out what I was doing here, and I suppressed a chuckle. The answer to that question was probably the last thing he would think of.

I heard Trey close the door before walking around in front of me, this time with a slight frown. “Do you want something to drink?” he asked, gesturing toward what I assumed was the kitchen, and looking at me like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

I shook my head. “That’s not what I came here for,” I said, taking a deliberate step forward.

Trey raised one of his gold-blonde eyebrows. “Then, why did you?”

By way of a response, I seized the lapels of Trey’s shirt, and crushed our mouths together, backing up against the wall with a strength I didn’t know I possessed.

I felt Trey’s surprise at my actions, and he tried to resist, but that didn’t stop me; I’d anticipated it, actually. I knew Trey wouldn’t want our first time to happen this way-rushed, and on the night of my uncle’s funeral, of all nights-but I didn’t want him to slow things down. I didn’t want to have the time to stop and think, because I knew if I did, I would chicken out-and that wasn’t an option.

So I kept going, shutting off my mind, ignoring all the voices screaming in my head about how wrong this was, and letting my instincts take over.

Once again, I was a passenger in my body;but this time, it was because I wanted to be. I had a specific goal in mind, and I wasn’t going to let my conscience talk me out of achieving it.

I went on autopilot, moving my leg in between both of Trey’s and increasing the pressure of my lips against his, coaxing him to give in, to let this happen. Slowly, Trey began to yield, his mouth relaxing from its rigid line and responding to the kiss. I could tell he still had some reservations, but, like I thought, he couldn’t deny me-not in this.

I tightened my grip on his shirt, opening my mouth under his and sucking his tongue inside. I heard him let out a moan, and he gripped my hip, probably in an effort to ground himself.

I pulled him even closer, twining our tongues together and bringing our lower halves flush against one another. “So, where’s the bedroom in this place?” I asked in between kisses, my voice coming out a lot huskier than I’d ever heard it before.

Trey’s eyes were dazed, and I could see that it took him some effort to actually understand my questioned and come up with a coherent answer.

“Over there,” he said slightly breathlessly, jerking his shoulder at the end of the hall, “But Braden-“

I didn’t let him get any further, sealing our lips together again and steering us both in the direction he’d just indicated. I didn’t want to give him a chance to ask me why I was doing this.

We practically stumbled into the bedroom, and that was where I began to speed things up: I released Trey’s shirt, beginning to undo its buttons while simultaneously refusing all of Trey’s attempts to gentle our kiss.

Once I had Trey’s shirt fully open, I shoved it off his shoulders before reaching for his belt.

Trey tried to grab my hands, either to stop me or to get me to slow down, but I batted him away, unbuckling his belt and pulling the length of leather out through the loops in the waistband of his dark jeans.

I pushed him down onto the bed after removing his pants, momentarily breaking our kiss to pull off my own sweatshirt.

“Braden, what is going on?” Trey demanded, taking the opportunity to speak while I divested myself of my undershirt as well.

“I want this,” I heard myself say, climbing onto Trey’s lap and siding my hands over his bare shoulders. “I want you.”

I buried my hands in his hair and crushed our mouths together for a third time, swallowing whatever he might have said in response.

His hands clutched at my waist as I rocked my hips against his. I could sense his inner turmoil; he was probably torn between being the good guy and pressing the issue, or just letting me have my way. I could understand that. If I had let myself, I most likely would have the same problem. But, even though I knew Trey did deserve to have some say in the matter, I wasn’t going to give him the choice.

I reached my hands down and worked my jeans and boxers off, leaving my completely naked in Trey’s lap. I heard him let out another moan when he realized that I was making his decision for him.

The fight went out of him at that, and he shifted so he could remove his own boxers and switch our positions. He pushed me under him, breaking away; but this time, it was just so he could reach out and withdraw a small rectangular package and a blue bottle from his nightstand.

Had my body not been running on autopilot, I would have paused at seeing those items, because their presence just made all of this so much more real. But, as it was, I just took the condom from Trey, wrapping my legs around his waist as I began tearing it open with my teeth.

“Are you sure?” Trey asked me, touching our foreheads together, no doubt in an effort to convey that he would be fine with whatever I said.

By way of a response, I slid the piece of latex over his dick, rolling on top of him again and just impaling myself without waiting for him to prepare me.

It hurt-a lot-but I didn’t let that stop me. I just started to move, my nails digging into Trey’s shoulders as I began to rock my hips forward with a steadily increasing speed.

Trey put his hands back on my hips, changing the angle of my movements; that made things a bit better. And, when he started to move, too, thrusting gingerly up into my body, I let out a moan of my own.

I’d thought about sex before-and, more specifically, sex with Trey-of course, but I’d never imagined that this was how my first time would happen. I’d never thought the first time I had sex would just be as a means to an end.

Then again, I’d never thought I’d be around long enough to lose my virginity.

The bed began to creak slightly as I increased the force of my motions, rocking my entire body faster. The air filled with the obscene sound of flesh meeting flesh, and Trey buried his face in the crook of my neck, muffling his groans against my skin.

Heat bloomed where Trey’s breath hit my skin, and, as he changed the angle of his thrusts, it spread all the way to my toes, coiling in the pit of my stomach. I began to see stars as Trey struck a certain spot inside of me, and I cried out involuntarily.

The heat only intensified as Trey continued to hit that same spot, and I knew somehow that neither of us was going to last much longer. A notion that was reinforced when Trey reached between our bodies and began to stroke my erection in tandem with the rhythm of our hips.

I must have been incredibly close to the edge already because it took only one, two, three strokes, and then I was coming completely undone, spilling over Trey’s fingers and my own stomach.

For a split second, everything went white. I forgot about my ulterior motive for doing this, and my guilt for using Trey like this, and was just consumed by pure pleasure.

_White hot kisses fingers touch make me fall to pieces and forget why you’re here_

“Braden,” Trey panted into my ear as he, I assumed, joined me a few seconds later. His nails dug into my sides as we rode out the aftershocks, and I dragged his head up for another kiss, muffling my own additional exclamations.

We collapsed back onto the bed together, and I let out a heavy breath. It was done. I’d made the play I had been so determinedly avoiding all this time. And, as I drifted into slumber next to Trey, I found myself thinking that, despite my reservations, I’d actually ended up enjoying it.

Now the only question was, had it achieved what it was supposed to?

_In the ICU ward of the Belle Dam hospital, in the third bed from the entrance doors, Riley’s eyes snapped open._

_She removed the ventilator from her face-somehow not setting off any of the machines-and sat up, twisting around to face the open window._

_A smile curled her pale lips._

_“The game has changed,” she declared in a pleased whisper, demon-blue eyes bright with what could only be described as satisfaction. “Welcome, my violet-eyed prince-welcome to your new kingdom.”_

I woke up to find Trey’s face inches from mine.

He might have been about to kiss me-but I would never know, because, as soon as my eyes opened, his widened in fear and he pulled back.

“Braden, your-your eyes,” he stammered in an uncharacteristically stricken tone, clearly struggling to keep himself calm. I saw his throat flex as he swallowed before completing his sentence in a strangled whisper, “They’re _violet_.”

 


	11. Chapter 11

As it turned out, I hadn’t needed Trey to inform me of the change to my eye colour. I had felt it the moment I’d risen from my slumber, and, when I’d opened my eyes, I had been able to see the threads again, the threads of the past and the present-and even the future. More than that, I’d felt I could even pull on them if I wanted.

That darkness that had been stirring inside of me every since Grace had stolen my power, that thing that everyone seemed so afraid of had finally come to the surface, and it was… _exhilarating._

I’d done more than simply gotten my old powers back; I’d awoken something else entirely.

I made my way back to Jason’s house alone, somehow knowing instinctively where to go. I’d left Trey alone in his bedroom without waking him up. I had to decide my next move without him around. He couldn’t know that sleeping with him, enjoyable as it was, had just been a means to an end for me; I had no intention of ever letting my feelings for him get in the way of doing what I had to again.

I probably should have felt guilty for leading him on like that, and using him just to get my powers back-but I didn’t. In fact, I hardly felt anything at all.

All of the fear, the anxiety, and the anger that had been festering inside of me was all beginning to melt away. The only emotion that remained was a thirst for blood-the blood of everyone who had ever dared to think they could cross me and get away with it.

Well, no, that wasn’t entirely true-there was still a little fear left, a little part of me that was appalled at what I had done. But I found it strangely easy to bury that part, letting it be swallowed up by the walls of steel and ice that begun to form around my previously bleeding heart.

When I returned home, I knew right away that I wasn’t alone. And that Jason wasn’t the other person in the house.

The woman from my most recent nightmare was standing in the front hallway, wrapped in a cloak made out of some shimmery, emerald green material, and leaning back against the wall with a smile on her unglossed lips.

“It’s good to see you again, Braden,”she greeted me like an old friend, watching almost fondly as I entered the house and shut the front door behind me. “I was beginning to think you would never take my hint and do what needed to be done.”

This seemed eerily familiar. It was almost my forest encounter with Ben all over again-except this time, I wasn’t powerless. I had no reason to be afraid-and, what was more, I had the distinct sense that this woman had no intention of hurting me.

That didn’t I mean I was going to let my guard down, though. After all, she was still a complete unknown: I didn’t even know her name.

Just like with Ben, I decided to try and play it cool, so, instead of just bursting out with the most obvious question, I simply folded my arms and said, “I’m sorry, am I supposed to know what you’re talking about?”

The woman shot me a look I couldn’t read, then wagged her finger at me reprovingly.

“Come now, Braden, don’t play coy. You know what I told you-and, from the looks of things, I’d say you found your door number three.”

I arched an eyebrow, attempting to figure out what exactly she meant by that. What did she know about me? And, more importantly, how did she know it?

As if she knew exactly what was going through my mind, she clarified. “Now that you’ve gotten your powers back, you can stop being the puppet, and start being the master. And, if you like, I can be your first pawn.”

My other eyebrow rose to join the first. That was an odd offer to make to a complete stranger. “And why would you want to do that? You don’t even know me.”

I didn’t blink as she pushed herself fluidly off the wall and loped forward, closing the distance between us until we were nearly nose-to-nose.

“Oh, but I _do_ know you, Braden,” she corrected in a low voice, her eyes gleaming with something I couldn’t identify as she leaned even closer. “In fact, I think I know you even better than you know yourself.”

That probably should have unnerved the crap out of me, but it was like my emotions were on mute. I didn’t feel it; all I felt was mildly bemused.

“Really?” I retorted smoothly, drawing the word out into two syllables. “How’s that?”

Her smile widened, showing her pointed, white teeth. “Well, you and I are the same, you see. We both have abilities that people are willing to kill to get their hands on; we’ve both lost the people that mean the most to us; and we are both people who would rather die than let someone else manipulate us again.”

I was silent as I processed her statement carefully. Everything she’d said was accurate; she really _did_ know me. And, somehow, I felt I knew her, too-like she was some long-lost friend or family member that I had forgotten and I had no idea why.

Sick of the mystery, I finally just decided to come out and ask, “Who are you?”

She met my penetrating stare without flinching as she responded. “I am the one who’s going to help you fulfil your destiny, Braden. I am the Queen of the Nith Clan-but you can call me Tamesis.”

Tamesis; just like her appearance, the woman’s name sounded strangely familiar. The second she said it out loud, I started seeing flashes: the two of us side-by-side on identical thrones, her laying waste to another town in another time and place. And her true face, her eyes the same swirling violet that mine were now.

Even stranger than her familiarity, though, was the fact that I felt only a modicum of frustration at not being able to remember where I knew her from. I knew that, not even a day ago, this would have been driving me crazy; but now it was minor enough that I didn’t feel the need to pursue it, and instead just moved on.

“Well, then, _Tamesis_ , I think we have a deal,” I accepted her offer, deciding that I would trust her-at least, until she gave me a reason not to. She seemed like she would be someone I’d want to have on my side for whatever came next. And, if we were working together, I’d have a better chance of figuring out why she seemed so familiar.

Tamesis clapped her hands together excitedly. “Excellent!” she exclaimed, shooting me a bright, enthusiastic look. “We’re going to have so much fun together, Braden. I just know it."

 

_*_

_It has begun_

A hooded figure strode down the center of the street, invisible amidst the pouring rain and hail.

The street was deserted, and, even if it hadn’t been, the figure would not have seemed out of place: he or she was of average build, just under six feet tall, and clad in a dark green sweater, black jeans and boots. Everything about them seemed normal.

Except for their blank white, pupilless eyes.

Thunder crashed overhead, and lightning struck a nearby streetlamp, shattering it upon contact. Glass skittered across the damp asphalt, crunching underneath the figure’s boots as they crossed the road.

The rain intensified and several more streetlamps shattered as the figure passed them, plunging the road into complete darkness.

When the figure reached the town square, they stopped and, tilting their head toward the sky, began to speak.

“ _From the ashes of his defeat he rises_

_Bearing those dark, dark eyes_

_Once a fallen prince, now a king_

_The blinder of Fate is blinded himself_

_All his strings severed_

_All his futures in the past_

_The Reaper reigns supreme_

_And takes his rightful place at last”_

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> matthias is probs terribly ooc in here but whatever. it suits my purposes.

I knew what everyone had probably thought of me before now. I was the weird kid with the ever-changing eyes, or the boy with the power that he didn’t know how to control; someone to be manipulated, or pushed around, not feared.

That was then.

_Everything that made me a victim is gone swallowed by prisms of ice and steel_

When I looked in the mirror, it was like I was seeing an entirely different person staring back at me. My skin was strangely paler, my hair darker; but the biggest change was to my eyes. Like Trey had said, they were no longer shifting from colour to colour like some bizarre mood ring. Now they had settled on a single colour.

Violet.

_Ragged edges sharpened into dagger make up a mask more than skin deep_

I knew I probably should have been more alarmed, but I felt nothing of the sort. This was what I had wanted, after all: to be someone, to be some _thing_ else. I just hadn’t expected it to happen so fast.

“Amazing, isn’t it? How much a single action can change you, not just on the inside, but on the outside as well?” Tamesis’ accented voice broke into my thoughts as she sidled into my room, a corner of her mouth slightly upturned.

I didn’t shift from my position, just blew a stray lock of hair our of my eyes.

“I wasn’t expecting this,” I admitted, revealing that my voice had changed as well. It was lower now, cooler, almost like a winter wind.

The mirror showed me Tamesis’ responding smile.

“The flesh reflects what’s beneath, Braden,” she quipped silkily, coming further into the room so she could look at me more closely. “A Reaper is always what he-or she-appears to be.”

The use of the word “Reaper” was what finally made me turn around, meeting Tamesis’ jade orbs with an arched eyebrow. “Is that what I am now? A Reaper?”

_Like the messengers of death_

Tamesis’ smile widened.

“It’s what they all feared you would become; it’s what you were always meant to become,” she affirmed brightly, eyes gleaming with what almost seemed to be pride.

I rolled that over in my mind, testing the title out again inside my head.

_Reaper_.

It didn’t sound like someone who’d spent their whole life wondering if one night he’d go to sleep and never wake up again, or like someone who’d lost everything that mattered to him because he’d been too weak to fight to keep it.

In other words, it didn’t sound like me-which was perfect, because I wasn’t me anymore.

_Bury your soul_

“And what do Reapers do?” I asked, my other eyebrow rising to join the first.

Tamesis took another step forward, bringing us almost nose-to-nose, threads of ink running though her twin pools of acid as she answered.

“We rule.”

Those two seemingly innocuous words made my lips curve upward. That sounded good; I’d spent my entire time in Belle Dam being a pawn. It was high time I started acting more like a king.

“Where do we start?”

* * *

 

Tamesis brought us to what appeared to be an office that was lit by a series of candles lining the walls and, instead of the sort of chairs one would usually find in a typical office, contained a pair of crushed velvet armchairs that were positioned on either side of the cherry desk.

We were on one of the lower levels of Downfall, the club that Matthias ran. From the looks of things, it seemed like he had taken up permanent residence there as well.

“What are we doing here?” I questioned, sweeping a brief, assessing glance over the room before turning back to my companion.

Tamesis paused in running her fingers over the edge of one of the chairs, facing me with a strange shimmer in her unearthly green eyes.

“I know the Grimm refused to help shield you from the Rider’s gaze when he saw what you were destined to become,” she explained, lips twitching slightly. “He was right to be afraid, but not to refuse you. That wasn’t his choice to make-and, this time, he won’t have a choice at all.”

Understanding dawned on me pretty quickly with that, and another piece of the puzzle fell into place: Tamesis had been the one pulling Matthias’ strings all along. She had been the one who had sent him to intervene when Ben had come after me, and clearly it had been her intention that he be on my side when I finally embraced my true power.

That part hadn’t worked out, obvious; but I guess we were here to remedy that.

I strode around the desk and lowered myself fluidly into the armchair across from Tamesis. “No, he won’t,” I agreed in that same unfamiliarly cold tone I’d been using all day.

I leaned back, arranging my body into a deceptively relaxed pose and settling in to wait for Matthias so we could put this plan into action.

Fortunately, I didn’t have to wait very long.

Only a few moments later, the door on the opposite end of the room swung inward and Matthias entered, dressed predictably in an outfit similar to the one he’d worn the last time we’d seen each other.

I couldn’t help but feel a sort of vindictive triumph when he stopped short, his face paling at the sight of me in his chair.

I could see him struggling to hide his shock, though, approaching me with an obviously forced expression of mild annoyance.

“Is there a reason why you broke into my office?” he asked with a stab at his usual bravado; but I heard the real fear underneath it as he met my now writhing, Stygian violet eyes.

My lips twisted into a smirk. This was a new feeling, having someone be scared of me. I had to say, I didn’t hate it.

“I came here to give you a change, Matthias.” I stated silkily, the words leaving my mouth without conscious thought as I stared him down from across the desk.

I saw his throat flex, like he was trying to suppress a gulp.

“A chance to do what?” he shot back, attempting-but failing- to hide how unsettled he was by my presence.

“To save your life,” Tamesis decided to add insult to injury by stepping out of the shadows at that moment and coming to stand by my side, eyes blazing acid fire as they bored into the Grimm’s.

At her appearance, Matthias dropped suddenly to his knees, slumping like a puppet that had had its strings cut-or pulled.

“M-my lady!” he spluttered in surprise, sinking down into a deferent bow-something I never thought I’d see him do.

His candour confirmed my earlier assessment: Tamesis was indeed the mysterious “she” he had been serving. There was no other explanation.

My attention switched momentarily to the brown-haired woman; knowing that made me see her in a whole new light. I didn’t say anything, though; I didn’t want to interrupt this.

“I know you declined Braden’s request to conceal him from the Rider’s sight-and _you_ know that that was not what you were supposed to do,” Tamesis continued, her casual tone not quite reaching the roiling shadows in her eyes as she peered over the surface of the desk.

Her expression turned as she rested her gloved hands on her hips. “I _should_ punish you for your disobedience; but instead, I’m giving you a chance to fix your mistake. You’re going to do what Braden asks-or you’re going to be the first person on his hitlist.”

Matthias lifted his head tentatively, his eyes seeking out mine, as if searching for an indication that Tamesis’ threat was just a bluff and I wouldn’t really kill him if he didn’t help me.

But he was disappointed: although this hadn’t been an original part of my plan once I’d regained my powers, I liked where it was going. Lucien and Catherine weren’t the only ones who needed to be taught the consequences of crossing me. Matthias had declined to help me, but now he wasn’t going to get a say in the matter.

That in mind, I met Matthias’ pleading gaze coolly, making sure to convey that Tamesis and I were in complete agreement. He had to do what I wanted-unless he felt like dying.

The hope in Matthias’ eyes died almost instantly, and he lowered his head in another, resigned bow.

“Of course, my lady. Whatever you wish,” he complied with obvious defeat.

My smirk widened. I rose out of the velvet armchair, surveying the demon’s bowed form as I mused over the benefits of this arrangement. Blinding Lucien from seeing my movements could be just one of the perks-but it was going to be the first I took advantage of.

“I want you to make sure that Lucien can’t see anything I do from this point on,” I commanded in that same silky, imperious tone, looking down on Matthias without a trace of pity or uncertainty. “And, unless I tell you to, you aren’t to make deals with anyone else. Am I understood?”

Matthias lifted his head again, his eyes ticking over to Tamesis for, I assumed, the same reason they’d gone to me when she had given her orders.

Tamesis must have given him the same response I had, because, a second later, Matthias was bowing to me.

“Understood,” he consented with forced complaisance, unable to hide his hands clenching into fists on the carpet.

“Good,” Tamesis piped up, apparently satisfied. “That settles that, then. Come on, Braden.”

I cast a final warning glance at Matthias as he raised his head, before following Tamesis out of the office, kicking the door shut behind us.

It was raining again when we exited the club though the back entrance. I inhaled deeply, breathing in the damp air and reveling in the lack of discomfort or guilt at what I had just done. Forcing a demon to do something for me-without doing anything for him in return- was something I didn’t think I’d ever be able to do. Especially if that demon was Matthias.

But that fear that Matthias had shown when he’d touched me in the hospital and seen what I was to become, clearly it was enough to not only get him to hide me from Lucien, but to get him to agree to be my permanent servant as well.

I felt a sort of dark thrill at that. Things were finally starting to go my way, thanks to this newfound power of mine, reinforcing my conviction that I had made the right choice in doing what I’d done last night. However wrong I had thought it was, the benefits were definitely outweighing the drawbacks so far.

This was my game now. No one else was pulling my strings-I was going to be the one doing all the string-pulling from now on. And anyone who dared to get in my way was going to be the new victim.

“So,” Tamesis said as she joined me on the edge of the club’s property, drawing my attention to her. “You’ve added another piece to your side of the board. Any ideas who your first target on the other side is going to be?”

I tilted my head the side thoughtfully; truthfully, I hadn’t had the time to come up with a real game plan yet. My thoughts hadn’t gone any farther than just doing what I needed to do to get my powers back. “Not really,” I admitted aloud, my tone blank.

Then, after a brief moment of consideration, I added, “But I think I know who might be able to help with that.”

Tamesis arched an eyebrow, looking intrigued.

“Oh? Well, then, let me show you a faster way to get there,” she offered, a mischievous look on her olive-skinned features.

Without waiting for a response, she wrapped a hand around my upper arm-and we both disappeared into the building storm.

* * *

 

Once again, I was in Riley’s hospital room-but this time, I wasn’t alone. Tamesis had come with me and she’d concealed both of us so we wouldn’t be interrupted. It wouldn’t do for anyone to get in the way of what I’d come here for.

“So, this is your friend, the one whose soul the Rider tried to take in revenge for your shooting him,” Tamesis surmised as we stood by Riley’s bed, trailing her gloved fingers over the edge.

I nodded, even though I wasn’t really listening. I was completely focused on the girl in the bed-when I spoke, my words were directed at her.

“You knew all along, didn’t you,” I whispered as I leaned over her prone form, feeling my fingertips spark as I brushed her hair back from her forehead; clearly a reaction to the part of my darkness that lay buried inside her.

“You knew that this was where it would all inevitably lead, that there was never any chance of preventing it. You knew it all, didn’t you?”

She didn’t answer-and I didn’t expect her to. I knew the answer already. The power within her hadn’t ended up there by accident; it had been placed there in order to push me into becoming this. It was Lucien’s fatal mistake; in going after Riley to punish me, he had created the circumstances for me to become the instrument of his annihilation.

I watched Riley for a moment, listened to her quiet mumbling and watched the strands of magic that had woven themselves around her. They were all blackened, like they’d been burned; I’d never seen anything like that before.

I could fix this. That was part of why I had allowed myself to become what I had; to put her back together. But, now that I was no longer myself, the question was, did I really want to?

She could see what I should do next, how I could make sure that that future I had seen when Lucien had first tried to kill me would come to pass. She was an asset like this, not a hindrance-and not broken. I could use her-but not if I made her ordinary again.

I realized I should have felt guilty for thinking of Riley as a tool rather than as a person, but I didn’t. I knew I was losing my humanity-and I didn’t care.

Taking a deep, measured breath, I gripped Riley’s chin and lifted her head so I could look her straight in the eyes begore speaking again.

“ _Look at me_.”

Her eyes snapped open, and I was instantly lost in a maelstrom of colours and sensations.

I saw the broken fragments of her mind, the parts that had been tainted by Lucien’s magic and the parts that were entwined with mine. I saw how I could make our connection stronger, rebuild the fractures that were keeping her from leaving this room-and that was exactly what I did.

I poured of my power into her, constructing the bridges between the separate pieces, creating the pathways to the parts of her brain that would allow her enough control to walk out of here under her own steam.

I felt her begin to twitch under my hands, and the word “no” tumbled out of her lips over and over again in a strangled whisper. It seemed whatever Lucien had done to her, whatever part of him had been left inside her, didn’t want me to do this-it didn’t want me to be able to use her. But I wouldn’t be denied: I hadn’t done all this just to be stopped here.

My eyes bored holes into her as I fought back, and her face was bathed in an acid green glow. She began to gasp violently, her fingers digging into the cotton sheets at her sides and trembling like she was terrified of something.

I probably should have been more worried about her frenzied thrashing and heavy breathing, but somehow, I knew that this was supposed to be happening, that it meant what I was doing was working exactly the way I wanted it to.

Riley kept shaking, letting out awful choking noises from the back of her throat-and then, suddenly she was sitting up.

Her now slanted, demon blue eyes roamed the room slowly, staying totally blank and impassive the whole time-until they landed on me.

“My violet-eyed prince,” she breathed with unconcealed reverence, her mouth curving into an almost giddy smile.

Her voice had changed a lot; it was huskier and deeper and a lot more measured than it had ever been before, like she was weighing her every word before speaking it. That was something I didn’t think the old Riley had ever done.

I watched blandly as she rose from the hospital cot in a single swift, controlled motion, not batting an eye when she came to stand directly in front of me.

“You’ve finally seen the light,” she declared happily, placing a hand on m cheek and firing our connection up again. “I knew you would. The Widow, The Rider, and this entire town are now all yours to do with as you wish. The dominoes are all lined up, and vengeance will be the first to fall.”

There was silence as I contemplated her words. It was anyone’s guess what she meant by that; there were a lot of people I wanted revenge on. The question was, which one of them did I want to take out first?

Grace had stolen my powers, but Catherine had murdered my uncle. And Lucien-well, I’d probably need an eternity to list all of the things he had done, not only to me, but to this entire town.

Unfortunately, though, this wasn’t about the town. This was about me, about my desire to get back what had been taken away from me and destroy the people who had taken it. My uncle would have been at the top of the list if I could bring back the dead; but since I couldn’t, his murder was the first thing I was going to avenge. And I’d already detailed the perfect way to do that.

My lips twitched. I knew who my first target was going to be- but I didn’t need to go after him. He would come to me.

 


	13. Chapter 13

Trey was worried.

it had been two whole days since he and Braden had slept together; the other boy had said he would call, but then he never did.

And then, of course, there was the fact that Braden’s eyes had changed colour that morning.

Trey told himself he wasn’t being clingy or paranoid. There was plenty reason for him to be concerned about not hearing from Braden for this long; he had a list of enemies a mile long, after all. Trey had legitimate reason for going to Jason’s house to check on him; he needed to make sure he hadn’t been killed sometime in the last two days.

When he entered the house, he found himself in a room he had never seen before with silver chains crisscrossed over the walls and shadows dancing in the corners, across the ceiling and over the floor.

It was unnaturally cold in the room, too. The second Trey stepped inside, he felt as though he’d walked into a freezer; his jeans and sweater were not enough to keep goosebumps from forming on the back of his neck and on the parts of his torso not covered by his shirt.

As startling as the drop in temperature was, that wasn’t what drew Trey’s attention most, though; no, all of his focus was drawn to the center of the room.

He had to blink to make sure he wasn’t seeing things, because, there, in the middle of the unfamiliar chamber, was Braden.

But he didn’t look at all like the Braden Trey knew-or thought he'd known.

For one thing, he was dressed all in black: black long-sleeved shirt, black coat, black slacks and black boots. Black leather gloves covering both of his hands, and a black silk scarf wrapped artfully around his neck so the ends trailed behind him.

His eyes, in sharp contrast, were glowing that same unearthly, incandescent violet as the other morning-a shade that spoke of shadows and violence, of madness and barricaded doors and the dark side of the moon. A visible sign of a power even more haunting and deadly than the Widow’s eyes. _Fire where before there had only been embers_

And almost as unnerving was the fact that Braden was sprawled over what appeared to be a throne. Carved of obsidian and white marble, Braden should have looked out of place on it-but instead, he looked as though he belonged there. Like he always had.

_like the king he was_

Trey felt his skin prickle. He knew he was staring, but he couldn’t help it. Whatever he had been expecting to see when he got here, it hadn’t been _this_ ; the sight rendered him speechless and completely unable to do anything _except_ stare.

Braden was the one to make the first more; upon catching sight of Trey, he rose from his throne and greeted his visitor without surprise.

“I was waiting for you to find me,” he said, revealing that his voice was different as well; it was lower, silkier, and, at that particular moment, it sounded almost like a purr.

He was moving as he spoke, loping closer to Trey, and even his walk was different: all liquid predatory grace like a hunter moving in on its prey. _Everything_ about him had changed- Trey felt as if he were looking at and speaking to a total stranger.

Trey swallowed, struggling to decide what question to ask first _where have you been why didn’t you call when you said you would_

_What happened to you_

 “What’s going on, Braden?” he finally spoke, voice trembling and breathless, his shock making it rather difficult to form words. But he forced them out. “You just disappeared after-after the other night. I look for you for two straight days and I find you here, looking like _this_. What the hell happened?”

The last thing Trey expected was for Braden to let out a soft laugh at his obvious frustration. And it wasn’t just a mildly amused laugh, either; it was a mirthless, and even cruel laugh, and it only served to make Trey even more convinced that this was not Braden. Or, at least, not the Braden he’d met a couple of months ago. _not_ his _Braden_

_the Braden you thought you knew is long gone_

This Braden seemed colder, darker, and like no one he’d ever encountered before. Those swirling, virulent purple eyes were…terrifying, and sent all sorts of shivers running down Trey’s spine.

But damned if they weren’t just the slightest bit attractive, too.

He tried not to react when this new Braden finished closing the distance between them and laid a gloved hand on his forearm; but the spot burned the second Braden touched it, making it damn near impossible to ignore.

“I am sorry, Trey,” he apologized with what sounded almost like genuine regret-almost. “I didn’t want to leave you, but, like you noticed, my eyes changed colour-and some other things have changed as well. I should have called, but I had to figure things out on my own.”

Trey couldn’t fight down a ripple of concern at that; struggling not to pull his arm out of the other boy’s reach, he steeled himself to concentrate on the conversation. “And did you? Figure things out?” he asked in as composed a tone as he could muster.

The not-Braden came, if possible even closer, leaving barely inches between then while his gloved hand travelled from Trey’s arm to the base of his neck. Tracing the line of Trey’s collar, he responded, the purr returning, “As a matter of fact, I did. I’m not going to be the victim anymore, Trey; I’m the one who’s going to rule over this town. And I want you to come and rule beside me.”

A frown wrinkled Trey’s light-skinned forehead. He didn’t know what exactly the not-Braden meant by that-but he did know it was most likely madness to even consider whatever it was.

A few days ago, he would have done anything to be with Braden-but the boy he was looking at was no longer Braden. And he was no longer a mere boy, either. He had become something unrecognizable, something distinctly _other_ -something that Trey knew he shouldn’t trust.

And yet, something was keeping from just outright refusing the proposal. A voice slithered into his ear, whispering that he would be a fool not to accept, _wasn’t this what you wanted all along_ , but he bit his tongue.

As if sensing his hesitation, the not Braden backed off a little and gave him what was probably meant to be a reassuring smile.

“I know what you’re thinking, Trey: you’re thinking that I’m not the Braden you fell in love with, and that you can’t trust me.”

Trey didn’t argue because, well, that was exactly what he was thinking; so, instead of saying anything, he just listened, thinking that Braden was going to try to give him a reason to think otherwise.

But, once again, the other boy defied his expectations and did rather the contrary.

“Well, you don’t have to make the decision right now; you can have some time to think about it,” the not-Braden continued with a rather unnerving shift into a deceptively casual tone. Trey felt his face heat when the boy moved closer again, bringing his mouth to Trey’s ear, lips almost grazing the lobe. “But don’t take too long.”

The blonde had to suppress a shiver at those last words; they sounded more like a threat than a request. _His_ Braden had never sounded like that before.

It should have been a simple matter of what to do, then; the other boy was allowing him to leave, so he should have done that-just left and not looked back-but Trey found himself torn. While a very large part of him did want to get away, there was a small-but still significant-part that wanted to stay, to throw away all reason and logic and just accept the not-Braden’s offer.

He knew that was crazy, but his heart didn’t seem to care.

He shook his head furiously, trying to dislodge that notion. He couldn’t think properly-not with those eyes on him. The way the other boy was looking at him was making it difficult to even breathe.

Feeling strangely like he was giving something up, he forced his feet into motion and stepped past Braden, heading for the door. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, trying to conceal the fact that they were shaking.

His mind was still spinning as he got outside, his heart beating almost as loudly as the thunder rolling overhead. He felt dizzy, and, even though he’d just been a room filled with ice, it felt like his entire body was burning-especially in the spots where the not-Braden’s hands had been. He’d never felt anything like this before; it felt as though he were coming down from a particularly intense drug trip or something.

His breath came out in heavy puffs of air as he tried to calm himself and figure out what exactly had just happened. Had Braden done something to him? Had that even been Braden, or just some creature wearing his face?

His thoughts were a jumbled mess, but one stood out above all the rest: whoever, _whatever_ , he’d just been talking to was still someone he had feelings for. More than that, it was someone he was drawn to-almost even more than he’d been drawn to the boy with the Widow’s eyes.

The question was, though, did he really want to be with this new Braden? Could he allow his attraction to this mysterious, dark entity outweigh every instinct screaming at him not to go near him again?

_Did he really have a choice in the matter?_


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm not entirely happy with this chapter but i'm not in the mood to edit it more right now. so this is what you get until after i finish the rest of the fic

I watched Trey depart, sinking back onto my throne and slinging one of my black-clad legs over the other as Tamesis materialized on my right.

“I think you could have convinced him to just join you outright,” she pointed out, turning to me with an arched eyebrow. “Why didn’t you?”

I leaned my elbow on one of my throne’s armrests, resting my chin on my palm and tilting my head in Tamesis’ direction.

“I _did_ convince him-he just doesn’t know it yet,” I stated slyly, upper lip curling. “I have to at least perpetrate the illusion that he has a choice in the matter, don’t I?”

Tamesis’ bemused expression slowly shifted into one of admiration-and she smiled as she appeared to catch onto my plan.

“You want him to think it’s his idea,” she surmised, realization dawning on her olive-skinned features. “You want him to believe that he is doing your bidding of his own free will, to make that vision the Widow showed you a reality.”

I inclined my head in an affirmative. “Exactly.”

Tamesis’ smile twisted slightly. “But surely you know that that was only a single path, a single possibility of where the two of you could end up? And that it was fraught with all sorts of flaws and inconsistencies?”

It was my turn to raise an eyebrow. That didn’t sound right. Grace had been so sure of what would happen if I kept my power-that was why she had taken it from me, and why I had done what I did to get it back. I’d wanted that future, that _darkness,_ so I could get recompense for everything that I’d lost. All along, I’d thought that becoming that… _monster_ , and having Trey as my pawn was a certainty. Now Tamesis was telling me that it was only a possibility? That what I had been forced to see wasn’t entirely accurate, and that parts of it were wrong?

“So, what’s the truth, then?” I queried shrewdly, crossing my arms over my chest.

Tamesis simply looked at me for a moment, as if debating whether or not to answer. Then, appearing to come to a decision, she did so.

“The Lansing boy is not meant to be what that vision of Grace’s showed him to be; he is not meant to be your slave. He is meant to be your partner, your equal. He is supposed to stand at your side, not kneel at your feet.”

My forehead creased in a frown. That sounded like that first vision Lucien had shown me before I’d killed him: Trey and I ruling the town, side by side, destroying Lucien together and undoing all of his hard work. That was a reality I could go for.

But something still didn’t quite track.

As if reading my mind, Tamesis continued, addressing the exact question I was about to ask.

“Your lover is one of us, Braden,” she declared matter-of-factly. “You caught a glimpse of his power yourself when the two of you faced the hellhounds a few weeks ago. Trey Lansing is a warlock-but not like any you’ve seen before.”

I didn’t quite know how to react to that revelation. I’d suspected that Trey was witch ever since we’d gotten caught in that binding circle while Catherine was killing John, but it was still a surprise to hear the words spoken aloud. Trey had powers-but apparently not like anything I’d seen before.

“What do you mean?” I asked, my frown deepening as I sat up a little straighter.

“I mean most warlocks-or witches- have to practice a lot before they become masters of their craft, even those who are born with it. Some can subvert that by getting a demon or a more experienced magic-user to give them a little practical application, but your boyfriend,” Tamesis paused, letting out a soft exhale before finishing, “Because his power has lain dormant for so long, if he were to awaken it now, he would be able to leave it like a berserker. One flick of his fingers and whatever he intends would become reality in seconds.”

I felt my forehead relax, and the corners of my mouth twitched. That was _definitely_ something I could use to my advantage; if that were true, then that made it even more crucial that I got Trey on my side.

Once again, it was like Tamesis was reading my mind, because the next thing she said answered a question I wasn’t even going to ask: “There’s another reason why you need him beside you: things like us, we have to find unconventional means of hanging onto our humanity-anchors, you might call them-and the Lansing boy is meant to be yours.”

I side-eyed curiously, and she tossed me a wink, letting me know what she really meant by that.

_Another manipulation velvet words to make the fall easier_

That was how I would close this deal: that was what I needed to say to get Trey to finally join me, once and for all.

*

I wanted Trey to be with me when I took down Catherine so I could use him against her. However, since Trey hadn’t given into me quite yet, Catherine got to live a little longer.

But that didn’t mean I couldn’t set my sights on the people around her.

I conjured a chessboard onto the coffee table in the living room, setting it up so the black pieces were on my side and focusing my mind on creating the scenario I wanted.

Catherine was the White Queen; her king was Lucien and her pawns were all the citizens in the town who’d curried favour with her and not Jason. If I wanted to dismantle her empire, I would have to take down someone pivotal, someone important to her rule: a knight or a bishop.

“There is a Bishop in white’s wings, waiting to be felled,” Riley chimed in from beside me, sounding excited. “The key is within your mind.”

_You don’t want to be their pawn_

_Be their master_

I sat back on the couch, rolling the White Queen piece between my gloved fingers as I considered what those words might mean and how they could help me with my next move.

I hadn’t gotten a chance to try out these now powers of mine yet; maybe they would make it so I didn’t have to have prior knowledge of my target. Maybe _they_ would show me who it should be; maybe that was what Riley meant by the key being within my mind.

Intrigued by that notion, I sat forward, setting the Queen back down on the board and picking up the bishop instead. Then, I lifted the white piece up to eye-level, narrowing my gaze and focusing my abilities on discovering who the physical embodiment of that position might be.

_Time to pull someone else’s strings_

The sitting room vanished from around me, replaced by a night-swept alley in an unfamiliar part of town, where I found myself looking at a-also unfamiliar-older man.

_Whose thread will you cut first_

He was dressed in muted grays and blues, blending into the still-raging rainstorm, half hiding his face under a large black umbrella. I didn’t know who he was, but I _did_ vaguely recognize him I had seen him with Catherine before, and they’d seemed close-or at least, as close as Catherine was with anyone-and I didn’t think my powers would show me some random nobody when I was plotting a murder.

I saw the threads around him, the connections, his past, his present-unfortunately, though, I was going to have to take his future.

_Blacken your heart_

I reached out a gloved and tugged.

As soon as I touched it, the thread turned black; shadows crawled from my fingertips and wrapped around all of them like vines with thorns growing out of them. The threads broke and the man began to wither before my eyes.

Black filmed over his face, his neck, every inch of exposed skin; it spilled out of his eyes like tears, turning red where I came out of his ears. There was a sound like bones snapping, and he crumpled, the umbrella falling out of his hand and falling to the ground with a loud thud.

A clap of thunder drowned out his screams as his body began to seize, his limbs contorting into all sorts of unnatural positions as he writhed uncontrollably on the ground.

He clawed at the earth, scrabbling, clearly desperate for an escape from the pain-but there was none. There was nothing he could do to get away-no one was going to save him.

I felt no remorse as I watched the man suffer; like a pitiless god, I simply watched while I continued to drive the blackness to devour him, eating him alive like some feral beast.

_The first domino has fallen covenants broken like bones shattered by the Reaper’s scythe_

I opened my eyes again, the man’s screams still ringing in my ears, causing rockslides down my spine and awakening thunder in my chest.

That was the first time I’d ever intentionally killed someone-and not felt anything bad about it. Even though I hadn’t regretted killing Lucien, I’d still felt sick over it; it had still given me nightmares for weeks afterward.

But that wasn’t the case this time. I didn’t feel an ounce of disgust or horror or any of the things I knew I was supposed to feel for what I’d just done. Instead, I felt _exhilarated_ -I felt like I was finally fully in control of myself, like I was finally _living_. For the first time in I didn’t know how long, I felt _good_.

Another piece of the puzzle clicked into place; this was what had been missing all those years. I hadn’t been using my power for what I was meant to all that time, so it had retaliated by shortening my lifespan. This was the cure I had been searching for all along; this was the reason for everything that I had gone through, everything that I had lost. This was what it had all been leading up to.

_“You were never meant to be the victim, Braden. You were always supposed to be the villain_. _”_

Unfortunately, most of the people in my life wouldn’t see it like that. Drew, Jade, and Jason, I could just brush off, but Trey-I was going to have to handle him another way.

Luckily, Tamesis had already figured exactly how I was going to do that. It was just a question of when I would have to put it into action.

*

Less than twenty-four hours later, Trey was standing in the entrance hall of Jason’s house again, his heart pounding in his ears.

He’d spent the majority of the day thinking about his encounter with the new Braden that morning, turning it over and over in his mind and trying to decide what to do. He didn’t know if he should believe that Braden when he’d said he still loved him-he wanted to, he really did, but _this_ Braden wasn’t someone he knew he could trust.

That said, he couldn’t deny the part of him that wanted to just throw logic out of the window and be with Braden, no matter what. Even if Braden wasn’t the same person he knew, he was still someone that Trey was drawn to-even more so now than before.

All that indecision was the reason why his forehead was creased in a frown when he walked into the same strange room that he’d found last time, this time finding Braden on his throne with an expectant expression, like he’d been expecting him.

“I hoped you’d be back soon,” the other boy said in a-still unnerving-slightly more human tone than before. His violet eyes gleamed in the dim light. “Have you made your decision? Are you ready to rule by my side?”

Trey’s frown deepened; he swallowed hard, and, instead of giving an affirmative or a declination, Trey asked a question of his own.

“How do I know you’re being honest with me? How do I know you’re not just playing me like all of the other demons traipsing around this town?” the blonde boy asked carefully, trying not to stare at Braden-or to flinch when Braden rose out of his throne and reached out to touch his face.

“You don’t,” Braden replied flatly with what appeared to be real remorse glittering in his smoky eyes, unfitting with the rest of his new shadowy demeanour. “But I _am_ telling you the truth, Trey. Whatever I am now, whatever I’ve become, you are the one part of me that remains human. I need you by my side to keep me from losing any more of my humanity. But I know I can’t force you: it’s still your choice.”

The darkness closed in around them, clouding Trey’s vision as he tried process what Braden was telling him. He didn’t want to believe it: everything inside him was screaming at him not to listen, that this shadow was not someone who could love him. Those writhing, shining Stygian orbs were not human: they didn’t belong to the boy he loved.

And yet, he still didn’t want to refuse; even if the way Braden was looking at him now didn’t bely everything about his new appearance and make Trey think that the Braden he knew was still in there, he wouldn’t have. He hadn’t wanted to admit it before now, but his heart had already made its choice.

His eyes traveled over the boy before him, noting the paler skin, the thinner lips, the obsidian coat covering him like a messenger of Death-and the tattoos that, for a moment, were crawling over his skin like some kind of unearthly infection before receding. Everything about his new appearance was unsettling-but it was also kind of enticing.

He clutched Braden’s hand over his cheek.

“Maybe I’m an idiot, but I still want to be with you,” he confessed, looking straight into those unearthly eyes without blinking. “So, I’m not going anywhere.”

And then, throwing caution to the window, he leaned forward, sealing their lips together-and sealing his fate.

 

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> everyone is totally ooc in this chapter but eh

_The dream was different this time._

_I no longer saw a town ravaged and besieged by demons while I looked on, smiling like I had accomplished something._

_No, that night, I saw something else entirely._

_I saw myself, sprawled over my throne in the new room in Jason’s house, a dark cloak around me like a shroud and a sinister smile on my lips._

_And, just like in that first vision, Trey was by my side on a throne of his own, our hands joined in the space between our positions, and his face uncharacteristically arranged in a n expression similar to mine._

**_Trey and I, bound together by things beyond physical touches and feelings. And in our wake, fires raging out of control, battled and feuds yet to come, and Lucien, kneeling before us. He cowered on the floor, begging for mercy, but we had none. I unraveled him. Finished what Grace had started and left him nothing but ash._ **

_A sea of bodies stretched out before us as far as the eye could see; some kneeling, some spread-eagled and clearly dead-Lucien, and Catherine, and even Grace in the latter category, their blood pooling on the ice-like floor._

_Riley was there, too, standing to my left, dressed in a cloak as well, her hair shorn above her ear and her face inhumanly pale and blank **my prophet the eye that guides my killing hands**_

_And, to complete the picture, there was Tamesis between Trey and I, leaning against the back wall, green eyes blazing acid and fire._

**_Fate’s new tapestry_ **

_It was what I’d wanted all along. I’d done it-I’d changed the future. This had to be the one Tamesis had described, the one Lucien had feared from the beginning. I had put myself on the right path to make it come true; there were still a few checkpoints I had to pass, but I wasn’t going to stop until I got there._

_This wasn’t about punishment anymore, though; it had started out that way, but now it had gone beyond that. This was about destiny, about getting what I knew I deserved after all the Hell I’d been put through-and not lamenting the person I was going to have to become to make sure that happened._

_*_

In all the madness of the last few days-and the vast expanse of the house-I had almost forgotten about Jason; but when I cam downstairs the next morning, there he was, waiting for me in the kitchen with breakfast on the table and a characteristically impassive expression on his face.

An expression that changed when he looked up from eating and got a proper look at me.

I could see him fighting to suppress his shock and confusion as he took in my more-than-casual attire and the new unnatural violet of my eyes and I couldn’t suppress a small smile.

“Something wrong?” I asked, playing it casual as I slid gracefully into the chair across from him.

There was a muscle jumping in his jaw as he-presumably-tried to compose himself before responding.

“What happened to you?” he questioned in a carefully controlled tone, arching one of his thin brows in what was probably supposed to be just a mildly interested manner.

I had to force my smile not to widen and just lifted one of my shoulders in a careless shrug.

“Well, since you weren’t doing anything to make Lucien and Catherine pay for what they did, I decided to take matters into my own hands,” I said conversationally, reaching for a piece of toast like my statement was no big deal. I looked back at him, letting him get another glimpse of what I was talking about. “I’ve become the very thing you all wanted me to.”

I thought that declaration might change Jason’s shock to pleasure-and I was right.

“Really?” Jason queried, clearly trying-but failing-to sound unaffected by that news. I saw him actually sit up a little straighter so he could examine me more closely. “And what might your plans now that you’ve done that be, if you don’t mind me asking?”

I stifled my rueful chuckle; I knew all he really cared about was whether or not my plants would match up with his. But I played along, if only to see his reaction when I pulled the rug out from under him.

_This is no longer your game_

“Actually, I was hoping to get your thoughts on that,” I responded in a falsely amiable manner. “After all, you may not be a man of action, but you are definitely a man of ideas.”

Jason didn’t seem at all bothered by the backhanded compliment-but I could see that he was faking it. We might not have known each other very long, but I knew him. Even if he wasn’t showing it, he was shaken by this sudden change in my attitude, the way I was playing him. He probably thought he was doing a good job at hiding it-but he was wrong.

He cocked his head to the side, appearing to consider what suggestions(read:orders) he might want to give me to maybe take me down a peg. He was probably thinking that he finally had the gun he could point anywhere he wanted without having to worry about the details.

Boy, was he in for a surprise.

“Well, I was going to send someone else to do it, but since you’ve clearly gotten stronger, maybe I’ll give the job to you instead,” he said after a long pause, clearly trying to temper his excitement.

I feigned attentiveness as he reached inside his jacket and withdrew a photograph, setting it down on the table between us so it was facing me. It showed a rustic-looking building in what appeared to be the outskirts of town.

“Something small, not too flashy; take out this building.”

I set my toast aside and leaned forward, pretending to be trying to get a better look at the photo-while, inwardly, I was laughing. He really thought I’d done all this just so I could destroy a building for him? He really didn’t know me at all.

I saw the thinly veiled anticipation building in Jason’s eyes as I looked up-and I knew this was the perfect time to bring it all crashing down on him.

I met his gaze, faking compliance for one final instant-and then, I sent a burst of power hurtling toward Jason, knocking him out of his chair and onto the floor.

He landed on his back, looking more surprised that hurt; surprised that I wasn’t immediately conceding to his wishes, no doubt. I guess that was understandable. He was used to people just doing whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. And he’d wanted to use my power all this time-it had probably never occurred to him that I would have an agenda of my own.

_He is not a tool you can use_

“I didn’t do this so I could fulfil _your_ plans-I did it so I could fulfil _mine_ ,” I intoned coldly, rising out of my chair and advancing toward him in an uncharacteristically predatory manner. “Let’s get something straight: this isn’t your game anymore. I’m running the show, so you can be either a knight, doing my bidding, or a pawn that I sacrifice-but don’t think you’ll ever get to play the king again, _father_.”

I supposed I should have felt bad about leaving him there on the floor, pinned by chains of shadow-even though he wasn’t the world’s greatest father, he’d at least been making an effort lately-but I was past that. I wasn’t going to let anything distract me from giving Catherine and Lucien what they deserved. Not Jason, not even my own emotions.

I exited the kitchen, not sparing him a second glance-and not feeling an ounce of remorse.

*

When Trey came downstairs into the sitting room, someone was waiting for him as well.

It was a woman-a woman he’d never seen before, with long, black hair, and eyes that were eerily similar to Braden’s.

“You must be Gentry,” she greeted him before he had a chance to say a word, revealing a slightly lilting, accented voice, a small smile on her pale, pinkish lips. “I knew it wouldn’t be too long before you saw the light and came back-and, like always, it seems I was right.”

A frown wrinkled Trey’s forehead at the knowing tone of those words; he didn’t like that a stranger seemed to have so much knowledge about him.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” he shot back, brows furrowing and arms folding over his chest.

The woman let out a soft chuckle as she rose off of the sofa, coming to stand in front of him so he had a better view of those bright, writhing green eyes of hers as she responded.

“I’m Tamesis, your boyfriend’s new best friend,” she introduced herself smoothly, holding out one of her gloved hands for him to shake.

When Trey took it, though, she yanked him forward, bringing them nose-to-nose so he felt her icy breath when she added in a lower, more forceful tone, “I’m also the one who’s going to make sure that _you_ play your part as well.”

Trey’s frown deepened, blood thundering in his ears as he tried to make sense of those words. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said guardedly. He wasn’t lying; he really had no idea what she meant.

Tamesis’ smile returned, showing teeth as she gripped his hand tighter.

“You really should have been more careful with your heart, Gentry,” she chided lowly, sounding faintly mocking. “Falling for a Reaper never works out well for anyone-and it makes you even more dangerous than you already were.”

“What do you mean?” Trey asked sharply, feeling a deep sense of foreboding, like he was about to learn some deep, dark secret.

Unfortunately, Tamesis didn’t seem to want to be the one to tell him, because, instead of answering, she released his hand and gave him a conciliatory pat on the shoulder.

“That’s probably a question for Braden,” she said with a note of finality, walking out of the sitting room-just as Braden walked in from the kitchen.

*

I knew something was up with Trey the second I entered the other room and saw him standing there, looking like he’d just been hit over the head or something.

“Trey?” I said, laying a hand on his arm to get his attention.

He looked down at me, his eyebrows furrowing in obvious consternation. “Who was that woman in here?” he asked-though, somehow, I knew that that wasn’t really what he wanted to ask.

But I answered, willing to wait to find out what was really troubling him. “Oh, that was Tamesis. She’s a new friend of mine-and a very valuable asset to my cause.”

Trey pressed his lips together, and I saw something like anxiety flit across his face.

“She called you a Reaper,” he stated uneasily. “And she said I was dangerous. Do you know what she was talking about?”

Now I understood: the connotations of the word “Reaper” were probably giving him all sorts of dark notions about me-and being called “dangerous” himself probably didn’t help with those.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t going to be able to dispel either of those notions.

I inhaled deeply before getting into it.

“A Reaper is what I became after the witch eyes were taken from me,” I explained truthfully. “Tamesis is one, too-and, according to her, we are ancient creatures with the power to manipulate darkness, control the future, and, supposedly, destroy time itself.”

Trey’s frown morphed into an expression of shock; whatever he’d been expecting me to say, it most likely hadn’t been that.

I heard him gulp before he spoke again. “And the part about me?”

“Well,” I started, watching him carefully for his reaction. “That’s the other reason I wanted you with me, Trey: because you have power inside you, too.”

I felt him tense-but it wasn’t from surprise like I’d expected. It was more from wariness, like I’d just discovered something he’d been hiding. And, when I looked into his memory, I saw why.

“You knew,” I realized with some bemusement. “You were going to ask me to teach you to control your power so you could use it to protect me.”

Trey shifted uncomfortably, like a guilty child. He was probably expecting me to be made or something, but I wasn’t. I would have been-before- but now I understood why he would have wanted to do that, and I had my own reasons for wanting him to learn those abilities, too.

“It’s okay; I get why you wanted that,” I assured him, tightening my hand around his bicep. “I would have said no, back then, but I can see clearer now-and I know that you are meant to awaken those powers and use them.”

Trey was silent after that, but he seemed to relax and just be mulling over what I’d said.

After a short while, his head tilted to the side and he ran his fingers over the wrist of the hand I had on his arm almost coyly.

“And how exactly would that work?” he questioned, his expression changing again into an almost suggestive one, like he already had an inkling of what my answer was going to be.

I slid my hand further upward, over his shoulder to the back of his head, pulling him down so our noses were touching.

“Like this,” I declared silkily before pressing our mouths together.

I felt as well as heard his-uncharacteristically-husky chuckle as he responded almost immediately, edging closer and wrapping an arm around my waist.

I smiled at that, tangling a hand in his hair and parting my lips in an invitation. He accepted, sliding his tongue inside, running it over the tops of my teeth and twining it with my own, while his free hand shifted, sliding down my side to my hip, steering me backward to the couch, like he knew a kiss wasn’t all I had in mind here.

I let out a pleased hum at the contrast of him taking control, allowing myself to be pushed onto the sofa, seizing a handful of his shirt so I could pull him down on top of me. But when we both landed, he took my hand away, pinning it into the space above my head, his other hand wandering underneath my shirt.

I arched, groaning low in my throat as it inched upward, fingers tracing floating ribs and leaving goosebumps in their wake.

The sensation was both alien and amazing; I’d never felt anything like it before. I hadn’t taken anything but superficial pleasure from last time-but this time wasn’t about me. It was about Trey-which was why I was willing to let him take the lead.

The hand on my ribs kept moving up, nails scraping lightly at my skin and sending pleasant shivers through my body. I kissed Trey harder in reward, letting out another groan that got lost as his tongue got bolder, moving deeper.

I put up no resistance when Trey started pushing at my coat and I half-sat up, lifting my upper half off the couch so he could take it off and toss it onto the floor.

Trey’s sweater joined it shortly, our kiss momentarily breaking so I could pull it over his head, running nails over newly bared flesh, making him hiss.

“Braden,” he growled, his voice so low and dark that it was hardly recognizable, teeth against my lips, fingers bruising on my wrist. He pulled back, eyes darkening as he helped me remove my own shirt, and I saw the power stirring there just beneath the surface. I wondered if he felt it, if it was driving this; judging by the sudden fervour of his actions, I’d say it was. And, if anything, that actually made me want this more.

Spurred on by that, I reconnected our lips more fiercely, lifting my leg to hook over his hip, bringing our lower bodies into firm contact. Another growl left his lips and his fingers curled around my belt, undoing it with fluid ease and slipping the length of leather through the loops; he popped the button on my fly soon after, sliding my zipper down and I raised my hips as he hooked his fingers in my waistband, shoving my jeans off along with my boxers.

His teeth pulled at my bottom lip, scraping over my chin and digging into the space underneath as I returned the favour, leaving us both completely exposed and making it easier for him to feel-and see-that he was as eager for this as I was, if not more so.

“Tell me you want this,” he demanded roughly against my neck, hitching my leg further up his waist, his hand trembling over my hip bone as he pressed inward.

I smiled again, a Cheshire cat’s grin full of teeth, raising my head so I could bring my lips to his ear. “I want this,” I breathed obligingly, mouthing at his jaw, hands sliding over the skin of his sides, his back, over his ribs and spine and hips and spanning out over his waist, lessening the space between us until it was nonexistent. “And I know you do, too-so _do it_.”

My voice cracked slightly on that last word when Trey snapped a bite to the probably throbbing vein at the base of my neck; but he took me at my word, nudging my legs apart and running a hand down my inner thigh.

“Do you have something?” he asked, voice darker, but ragged, like he was holding himself back. But that wasn’t what I wanted.

“Not down here, but,” I grabbed one of his hands, lacing our fingers together. "That's the benefit of having magic."

I squeezed his fingers, murmuring a few choice words under my breath, and when they wandered back to my core, they were covered in something slick and warm.

When that first digit slid inside, it sent jolts of electricity up my spine and I hissed, reaching up to grasp at Trey's shoulder. We hadn't done this part the last time, either-and I regretted that because when that finger started to move, it felt even better. My neck pulled tight, head back against the sofa with a strangled moan. “ _Trey_.”

Trey dropped kisses along my collarbone, sliding in further and curling his finger. My hand clenched at his shoulder with each motion, hips canting to pull him in deeper. “Don’t stop.”

I felt the grin now against my chest widen, another dark chuckle vibrating against my skin. “Say please,” he intoned, twisting his wrist in a tease that made me let out another hiss.

“ _Please_ ,” I capitulated without hesitation-but I couldn’t quite do the desperate thing, because even if I wanted this-a lot-I wasn’t entirely giving up my self-control.

I felt his grin turn into a smirk at my compliance and my body bowed up at the press of another digit, the slide, the curl, hips rolling at the stretch as he began to scissor them together, skating across my prostate. My nails dug harder into his shoulder, probably drawing blood, but I wasn’t paying attention to that. All I could focus on was the sensation of being pulled apart, my vision turning into starbursts and white.

“Enough,” I snapped out, trying to sound more commanding than pleading as Trey’s hips ground against mine.

He lifted his head, eyes roving hungrily over my face, like he was searching for something. And he seemed to find it because he pulled his fingers out all the way, leaving me empty-but only temporarily. I watched as he wrapped his hand around his own erection, slicking himself up before replacing his fingers with something bigger.

I bent up again as he entered me fully, sliding in until he was buried to the hilt. It hurt much less than last time, probably because this time I’d actually let him prepare me for it and he gave me time to adjust. But I was still impatient, because barely a second later, I was nudging him with my knee and growling “Move” into his mouth.

Trey nipped at my lips before obeying; there was the fullness, the stretching, the building pressure and brief, almost aching emptiness that made me feel like a valve being tightened inside me, and I smothered my groan against his lips. It was a slow drag, and the burn, I thought the burn might have been the part I liked the best as my hips rose to meet his on each thrust.

As he increased his pace, I felt it-the energy, the _darkness_ inside both of us connecting. I could see it as a visible thing, shadows tangling around Trey’s limbs, and it made everything even more intense. I knew this was where it was all leading-this was where I’d wanted to lead.

I locked my ankles behind Trey’s back, dragging him in even further, our lips crashing in open-mouthed kisses every time he pushed back in. It was intoxicating, a sharp change from our first time when I’d been the one doing all the work and he was the only one feeling the effects. He was groaning into my mouth, sucking on my gasping lips; I knew there was going to be bruising, but I didn’t care. I could get rid of them easily-and, anyways, it didn’t matter. I had no one to hide it from.

His next thrusts were angled, finding that spot inside me that made me see stars again, and my nails scrabbled at his back, mouth fusing against his in an attempt to muffle my strangled gasp. I didn’t think I was going to last much longer, especially as he was slamming into that spot over and over again, harder each time, causing the heat in my stomach to build to an all-time high.

Trey seemed to catch onto that and he seemed to want it, wrapping a hand around my cock and starting to stroke me in time with his thrusts. I bit his lip in punishment, but I was unable to stop myself from bucking into his hand, making it so it was only one, two, three seconds before I was clenching hard around him and tumbling over the edge.

His movements became more forceful and erratic as I clutched at him, panting as I spilled into his palm. He kept going, and soon he was joining me, biting me back, hard enough to fill both our mouths with the taste of iron.

It was as he was riding out the aftershocks that I sensed the change; Trey’s whole body shook with the force of it, and, as we slowly came down, he opened his eyes-and they had become a dark, blinding gold.

_Another key to the kingdom_

 


	16. Chapter 16

Trey was truly mine now.

That morning on the couch, all his edges had hardened, and all his threads had turned to shadow-just like mine. When I looked at him, I saw silver and gold and a core of fire; realizing his powers had changed him-in more ways than one.

To start, he was, if possible, even handsomer than before-and there was a sharpness to his appearance now, like it was another weapon in his arsenal. He could probably manipulate anyone he wanted with nothing more than a smile, which, incidentally, would be much simpler and less detectable than any of my methods.

My mouth curved into a faint smile at that thought. Everything about Trey could be a weapon now. Except his heart: that belonged to me. He had given it freely, and had allowed me to turn it cold and dark, against everyone but myself.

_He wasn’t anything he had been-but he was mine_.

He had dressed himself less casual after, finding a place between casual and threatening, something to suit his new self. The flannel and slightly worn jeans he’d been wearing before had been discarded-along with the old Trey.

I leaned back on the couch, watching him as he experimented with the gold strands of magic twisting out of his fingertips, seeing exactly what he could do with them. Like mine, his power had come with the added bonus of practical application, so he already knew what he was doing; the years of training most master witches probably had to experience were already in his head. He could now wield his power with the same precision as a surgeon wielding a scalpel. He was deadly-nothing like he used to be.

My smile widened, and I turned to the chessboard I had set up on the coffee table the previous day, snatching up one of the white knights and putting it on my side of the board. I couldn’t wait to see Catherine’s face when she discovered I’d turned the only person she loved against her.

_Check_

As if drawn by my thoughts, Trey finally stopped his playing and came to sit beside me.

“So, what’s the first step in making this town our kingdom?” he asked, draping an arm over the back of the couch and turning those molten eyes on me.

I let out a quiet huff of laughter at the easy, flippant matter with which he spoke. There was a lining of dark silk to his tone, like he was asking something untoward-and, in a way, he was. He knew that blood was going to have to be shed in order to do what he was saying. The Trey from the other day would never have sounded so casual about something like that.

By way of a response, I reached out and picked up the white queen piece off of the board, meeting Trey’s gaze with a meaningful look. “We take out its other current ruler.”

Trey’s eyes flashed with understanding and, contrary to my expectations, he smiled as well.

“You want to kill my mother,” he surmised, taking the piece from me and turning it over in his brown-gloved hand.

I shifted closer to him, twisting my body around so we were fully facing each other and placing a gloved hand on his knee.

“I told you I would,” I replied, dropping my voice to a tone meant more for bedrooms and candlelight. I ran my hand lightly up his thigh, looking at him through my lashes. “Think you’re up for that?”

It was Trey’s turn to laugh, his a low, rumbling sound that made my spine tingle. He pushed me back, half-draping himself over me before he answered.

“Do you really need to ask?” he declared, tilting my chin up so he could claim my lips.

When our mouths touched, it was like circuits firing, stars bursting in the sky to become black holes. It was two primordial forces connecting, boosting one another and swallowing everything in shadows and frost.

It was just a brief kiss, but it left us both momentarily breathless; I inhaled deeply as Trey pulled away, the corners of my mouth twitching in amusement.

“I assume you have a plan?” Trey queried, brushing a thumb over the curve of my jaw and cocking one of his eyebrows slyly.

I stretched languidly, leaning back and slinging one of my legs over the other as I pondered his question. There was one taking shape in my mind-there had been ever since this all started-but it went a little beyond just vengeance. And Trey was going to play the bigger part between us.

“Now that you mention it, I do,” I said smoothly. “And the first step is finding the best way to sneak into your former home.”

“Oh, you don’t need to do that,” Tamesis’ accented voice cut in as she materialized at the other end of the room. She sauntered toward us, pushing back her emerald hood. “Haven’t I taught you yet, Braden? We can be anywhere we want just by willing it.”

As if to demonstrate, she vanished suddenly, reappearing behind the couch a second later. “See?”

I looked at Trey, who appeared impressed-although he didn’t voice it.

“Well, that makes things simpler,” he observed mildly. He turned back to me with an expectant expression. “What was step two?”

I got to my feet.

“Let’s go pay your mother a visit,” I said, holding out a hand for Trey to join me. He took it, and, with Tamesis’ words in mind, I willed us to appear inside Catherine’s house.

I wasn’t sure what exactly I’d expected to happen, but I was faintly surprised when mist the colour of charcoal suddenly enveloped us, swirling like a cyclone.

Jason’s living room dissolved from sight, and for a moment, blackness was all I could see.

When it cleared, we were somewhere else-somewhere I didn’t recognize.

But Trey did.

“Did you mean to bring us to Catherine’s bedroom?” he quipped, casting a bemused look around the almost scarily pristine chamber.

I lifted my shoulder in a shrug. “No,” I said honestly. “But it is a good place to ambush her. She’d never expect me-or you-to violate the _sanctity_ of her bedroom.”

I saw a slight tug at the corner of Trey’s mouth-clearly, he agreed. “So, step three?”

I walked across the room and leaned against the wall next to the nightstand. “I’m going to make sure she knows you’re here,” I told him, meeting his eyes. “And then, when she comes to investigate _you’re_ going to be the one to kill her.”

*

It wasn’t long before I sensed Catherine entering her house; I recognized her magic signature because I’d been training myself to do every night since I’d awakened my Reaper powers.

The threads connecting Trey to his mother spread out before me, and I pulled, drawing her upstairs to her bedroom where Trey and I were waiting. I knew she wouldn’t resist-she couldn’t.

I could tell Catherine was on edge the second she stepped into the room; though she did a masterful job of concealing it, I could see the cracks in her façade. Another benefit of being a Reaper: people’s masks had no effect on me.

“Hello, Catherine,” I greeted her, steering her attention to where I stood against the far wall, hands in the pockets of my coat and one ankle tucked behind the other. “Didn’t think I’d ever set foot in here again, did you?”

Catherine turned toward me, shock flashing briefly across her porcelain features before they were once again schooled into lines of mild interest.

“Is this Jason’s next move? Sending a child to carry out his errands?” she said coolly, obviously trying to pretend she wasn’t impressed-or scared.

I shook my head at her act. She couldn’t fool me with that anymore-and I was going to make sure she knew it.

“Oh, Jason has nothing to do with this. Your feud with him became moot the second you decided to kill my uncle,” I declared in a soft, dangerous tone, my violet eyes boring holes into her face. “You two aren’t the ones in charge here anymore- I am. I’m the one who gets to pull all the strings now. I’m the one who gets to decide whether you live or die-and, for what you’ve done, I say you die.”

Catherine arched one of her immaculate, white-blonde eyebrows in what was obviously incredulity. “You think you can kill me?” she sneered, not bothering to mask her derision.

I met her sneer with one of my own.

“Oh, I can do a lot worse than that,” I retorted silkily. “But I won’t be the one doing the killing, actually.”

I flicked two of my gloved fingers to the side, and Trey sauntered up beside me, his eyes flashing an even brighter gold than his hair, and I saw Catherine’s gaze widen at the amber strands of magic coiled around his slender form.

“G-Gentry?” she actually stuttered his name, a crease appearing on her white forehead, like she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

“Hey, Mom,” Trey replied in a falsely cheerful tone, lips twisting in a cruel facsimile of a smile as the silver threads pulsated around him, causing Catherine’s eyes to widen even further.

“You-you have power,” she stated with an ill-concealed mix of awe and horror.

Trey’s mouth pulled back, showing his pointed, white teeth.

“And now I’m going to use it to finally make you pay for hurting Braden,” he shot back viciously, shaping the strands of light in his hand into a spiked, gold metal chain that he aimed straight for his mother.

Catherine tried to move-whether it was to flee or to approach her son, I didn’t know-but I shot my and out, hurling a wall of blackness at her to force her to remain where she was.

“You can’t escape,” I hissed smoothly, feeling an immense sense of vindication as I watched Catherine struggle to break free of her invisible bonds. I was finally getting payback what the older witch had done to my uncle-and it was just as sweet as I’d imagined it would be. “You can’t stop this, and no one is coming to save you. Like I said, _I’m_ the one who gets to decide your fate now, and this is it: to be killed by the only person left who you really loved.”

Real fear and pain rippled across Catherine’s face as her son advanced towards her, raising the glowing chain behind his head, ready to lunge.

“You don’t want to make my son do this,” she tried to reason with me-most likely as a distraction while she attempted to summon her own magic. “He won’t forgive you if you make him cross this line. You have to know that.”

I had to admire her quick thinking; trying to use my feelings for Trey to distract me from my goal was a pretty smart play. And it might have worked, too-except for one thing.

“You think I’m _making_ him do this?” I snorted mirthlessly, shaking my head again as if I were dealing with a particularly slow child. “I couldn’t make Trey do anything; he’s doing this all on his own, so I don’t think I have to worry about his forgiveness.” I waved my hand in Trey’s direction. “Finish it.”

Before Catherine could say another word, Trey snapped the chain in his hands forward. IT coiled around his mother’s throat, and he yanked on it, pulling it tight and bringing her to her knees.

Beads of blood dripped down Catherine’s neck where the spikes dug into her skin, and she clutched at the chain, coughing as it began to cut off her air supply.

“G-Gentry,” she choked out hoarsely, gaze turning from defiant to pleading. “P-please.”

I side-eyed my partner, curious to see how he would handle this, if he would be able to follow through.

His expression was one I’d never expected to see on Trey’s face: one completely void of love or mercy. Catherine’s plea wasn’t having an effect on him. Clearly whatever part of him that had loved her was gone.

He pulled on the chain again, roughly forcing Catherine flat onto the floor while he stalked towards her, trails of dark gold following him like a shroud.

“Sorry, _Mom_ ,” he said mockingly as he stopped a few inches in front of her. “But this is goodbye.”

She looked up at that, just in time to watch as silver claws extended out of Trey’s fingernails, and he used them to slash open her throat.

I saw the betrayal and horror in her eyes just before she slumped over, face down in her own blood. She’d probably never thought that her only son, her precious golden boy would ever do this to her. I couldn’t help but feel a little dark thrill at the fact that she’d been wrong.

I leaned back again as all the threads surround Catherine blackened and withered away as the last bit of life drained out of her, and my grin widened. John’s murder had finally been avenged.

_Ding dong the witch is dead_

I looked back at Trey as he dissolved the chain around Catherine’s neck, and he met my gaze evenly, gold eyes smouldering like fire.

“So,” he spoke first, flicking at an errant strand of hair. “Who’s next?”

 

 

 


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was a lot shorter than I wanted it to be.

Back at the house, astride my throne, I contemplated Trey’s question. Catherine had been my biggest target; for killing my uncle, she had been at the top of my hit list. Now that I could check her off, I was having a moment of indecision as to whose name should come next.

Luckily, I had someone who could tell me the right answer.

I turned to the girl standing to my left expectantly, knowing she could read the question in my face-but I asked it aloud, anyway. “Whose future shall I end next?”

Shadows swirled through her luminous, cornflower-blue eyes, and her muttering increased in volume, revealing that she was speaking another language-and yet, I understood her perfectly.

“ _The light darkens, and the breaking of borders. A bell tolls, a death knell for the futures of those under the Rider’s rule_.”

_Who wants to die next?_

I rubbed my chin thoughtfully whilst I attempted to interpret her words. The strangeness of the situation wasn’t lost on me: not even a week ago, I would have balked at the idea of using Riley as some sort of crystal ball, but now, that part of me that felt guilt was gone, buried deep under layers of ice. Riley was where she was meant to be; she wasn’t broken, just rebuilt into something darker than before-just like me. And this new version of her _wanted_ to be used-so who was I to turn down another willing pawn?

“It sounds like she’s telling you to go after Lucien,” Trey’s voice broke into my thoughts as he tapped me on the shoulder. “Or maybe someone whose future is important to him.”

I swivelled my head around to face him.

“You might actually be onto something there,” I mused, licking my lips. “Lucien’s ability to see and influence people’s futures is, after all, where he gets most of his power from. If I took away some of those futures, he would be severely weakened; maybe even enough so that we could finally end him, just like we did Catherine.”

Trey’s eyes glowed, looking almost enraptured as he came to sit next to me; it was a mark of how much he had changed that he didn’t even flinch at the reminder that we had just killed his mother.

“We can finally finish what we started in his office,” he suggested excitedly, trailing his hand down so he could entwine our fingers. “And this time, we’ll have a weapon much more dangerous-and capable of causing a lot more pain-than a gun.”

I could feel the beginning of another rockslide down my spine. Another contrast: before all this, I never would have found plotting murders so much fun. And, as for the method of finding my exact targets, well, I already had an idea of how that might be achieved.

“Finding the place to aim that weapon first shouldn’t be too hard,” I declared. I snapped my fingers, summoning a black flame onto the floor in front of me. “We just need to perform one little ritual.”

Trey side-eyed me, and, as our gazes met, I could sense him using our connection to read my thoughts and discover exactly what this ritual would entail.

_Dark fire_

_The words of the ancients_

_And the blood of one whom the Rider has touched_

“So,” he said after, I assumed, getting what he needed, shaping the gold strands of magic surrounding his hand into a wavy-bladed dagger. “Whose vein are we tapping, then?”

Lips twitching at his choice of phrase, I tugged the glove off of my right hand and held it out to him. “It has to be me-I’m the one whose life Lucien has touched the most.”

Trey turned slightly and used the gold dagger to slice open my palm. As blood welled up out of the fresh wound, I extended it and turned it face down so the crimson liquid dripped into the obsidian fire.

The flames turned the same colour as Riley’s eyes and I felt a burning in my head as the final piece of the ritual-the incantation-filled my mind poured from my mouth.

“ _Dark fire of the forsaken_

_Lead me to those who have been tainted by the same blood as I._ ”

I chanted the words repeatedly, four times in totally, until the fire consumed my vision completely.

Through the darkness, I saw the answer to my unspoken question: the faces of people whose deaths would cripple the Rider and make him easy pickings for me and Trey.

I opened my eyes and declared in a predatory tone, “We have our next targets.”

_Time for another domino to fall_

_*_

The first was a woman, another citizen of the town that I sort of half-recognized by sight, but whose actual name I didn’t know. Not that it mattered, anyhow; all that mattered was the future that I saw spread out before her-the one I was about to rob her of.

I followed the threads cast by the ritual to her current location, a modest two-bedroom apartment that I took to be her current place of residence, judging by all the photographs of her on the walls.

She was in the kitchen when I got there, standing before the stove and stirring a pot of something, presumably making her evening meal. I felt the corners of my mouth twitch in faint amusement; how terribly mundane.

She didn’t seem to notice as I stalked up behind her, all of her attention remaining on her cooking and a soft humming emitting from her lips as she sprinkled salt into whatever was in the steaming pot. I wasn’t bothered by that, though; she didn’t need to notice me. I didn’t want to make a big production of this like I had with Catherine’s murder. That had been a goal-this was simply a means of achieving one.

I didn’t make a sound as I crept over to the wall beside her, stopping a few inches away from her and placing my gloved hand on the plaster surface.

“ _Devour_ ,” I whispered in the same language as the incantation that had lead me here, and shadows crawled from my fingertips like snakes. The fabric of my glove turned to liquid before my eyes and rivulets of it spiralled across the white plasterboard and onto the stainless steel of the woman’s stove, heading straight toward her.

The woman cried out in surprise, the wooden spoon in her hand clattering to the floor as the black tendrils leaped off the surface of the stovetop and began to wrap around her petite form.

Like living vines, the shadows twined around her arms and legs, binding her knees and ankles together and pinning her arms to her sides. She tried to break free, but her struggles only made its grip tighten, to the point where she was no longer able to stand, and she went crashing to the floor, landing flat on her back.

I saw her eyes widen in shock when she finally caught sight of me, and her mouth opened, probably to say something along the lines of “who are you” or “why are you doing this”, but one of the black tendrils caught in between her lips, effectively cutting her off before she had a chance to utter a single syllable.

My mouth curved upward as I strolled forward, eyes brightening with mirth at the sight of this nameless pawn writhing at my feet. It was a heady thing, having this kind of power over someone-holding their life in my hand. I could do whatever I wanted-there would be no one to stop me; but, fortunately for her, I wasn’t here to play games.

_I was here to win_

I stopped at the woman’s side, reaching out and seizing one of the threads I saw hanging over her bound form. The shadows twisted around it, turning it black like charcoal-just like what had happened to Catherine’s.

_This is what death looks like_

The woman’s gaze turned pleading, clearly begging me not to end her life. But I had no compassion left in me, no mercy for her-or anyone else. She was just a sacrifice that had to be made.

I gripped the thread with both hands and, eyes darkening with intent, began to pull it apart.

The woman screamed against her makeshift gag, thrashing on the floor as black veins appeared, pulsing underneath her skin. Her head reared back, smacking violently against the marble tile, the impact bringing tears to her eyes; obviously, she was in a lot of pain.

I probably should have felt more guilt for what I was doing, but I didn’t. I didn’t stop; I pulled the thread harder, watching as it began to split and fray, wringing even more screams from the woman’s mouth, until it broke completely.

Like a light going out, all the life just vanished from the woman’s eyes, leaving them blank and unseeing.

_There is nothing left_

I let out a soft, exhilarated breath as the blackness receded back into my hand. I never thought I’d do something like this-killing a seemingly innocent person just to get at someone else-and I _definitely_ never thought I would enjoy it. But I did, and I had, and I wasn’t stopping at one. This woman was only the first of the many bodies I was going to drop; the beginning of the sea of them I had seen in my vision.

Belle Dam was about to get a whole lot emptier-and bloodier.

_He is not a demon; he is something even demons should fear_

_*_

Tamesis ‘s lips curved in a smile at the feeling of another life ending-and at the look of mixed anger and wariness on Jason Thorpe’s face when he entered his office and found her sitting behind his desk.

“You’re not supposed to be in here,” the elder Thorpe declared rudely. “Who are you and what do you want?”

“Now, that’s no way to talk to a guest,” Tamesis tsk’ed at him, feigning offense. “Especially one who’s done so much to help your son.”

A crease appeared between Jason’s brows at the mention of Braden.

“What do you mean? What do you have to do with my son?” he demanded, folding his arms across his chest.

Tamesis’ smile widened.

“Don’t you know? I’m the reason he finally has his powers back, and the one who convinced him to use them to get rid of your nemesis,” she answered, wagging her finger at him reprovingly, like these were things he should know already. “I’m the only reason he’s still alive right now.”

Jason’s gaze sharpened into a glare as he realized what that really meant.

“ _You_ ’re the reason why Braden’s like this?” he queried sharply, striding toward the desk so he could stare down at the woman on the other side of it. “You’re the one who drove him to _attack me_ , and use his powers for some misguided attempt at revenge for his uncle?”

“Yes,” Tamesis confirmed simply, apparently unaffected by Jason’s obvious fury, swinging her booted feet up onto the desk and crossing her long legs at the ankles. “Only it’s not an _attempt_ at revenge anymore: Catherine Lansing is dead. Braden’s gotten what he wants-but he isn’t stopping there.”

Jason’s nostrils flared, his knuckles whitening as his hands clenched into fists.

“And you’re happy about that? Happy that you’re turning my son into a killer? A monster?” he snapped.

Tamesis let out a singularly humourless laugh at that.

“Oh, it was never about turning him into a monster,” she told him in a casual tone that definitely didn’t fit the situation, tossing her curtain of dark, wavy hair over her shoulder. “It was about getting him his power back, and making him more than he was, more than everyone wanted him to be. He is not Lucien’s anymore, or mine, or even yours. He is his own now: no one can ever challenge or control him again. And I pity the next person who tries.”

_Consider that a warning_


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a disclaimer: i adapted a lot of narration from the actual book here so don't own that.

I wasn’t surprised when I returned home to find Drew waiting for me by the front door, an expression of unconcealed disapproval on his face. I’d known this was coming; in fact, I’d expected it much sooner.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Braden?” he demanded the second he caught sight of me, not bothering with any of his usual snark.

My lips twitched ironically at his obvious ire; I’d never heard him so emotional before.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, Drew,” I replied smoothly, affecting an air of innocence as I walked past him to enter the house. I wasn’t normally one to play this game with people, but, as evidenced by my earlier activities, a lot of things had changed.

Drew stalked after me, clearly not in the mood. “Don’t give me that bullshit,” he snapped furiously. “I know what you’ve been doing all day, and I want to know what you’re thinking. After everything that’s happened, I thought you wanted to take out Lucien-not become just like him.”

Instead of responding immediately, I was silent as I sauntered over to my throne and slid gracefully onto it, slinging one of my legs over the other.

“Well, you see, this _is_ how I’m going to take out Lucien-by taking the futures he so carefully cultivated away from him, I weaken his powers. I make him vulnerable, and so that much easier to destroy when the time comes.”

Drew’s brows furrowed, probably disconcerted by my lackluster tone-or perhaps by the dark tendrils swirling around my obsidian chair.

“So, what? You’re just going to keep killing people until you’ve weakened Lucien enough to kill him, too?” he retorted sharply, striding forward so he could level a piercing stare at me.

When I simply lifted my shoulders in a non-committal shrug, I saw his eyes narrow.

“What the hell happened to you?” he demanded lowly, his gaze turning searching, like my face might give him an answer.

I leaned back in my seat, spreading my arms in a casual gesture.

“I made a choice,” I declared bluntly, meeting his stare without blinking. “I decided to stop letting everyone push me around, and make sure no one could ever do so again. Now that I have my powers back, _I’m_ the one who gets to do all the pushing.”

For the first time since I’d known him, Drew didn’t immediately make some cutting retort; instead, he just continued to stare at me like he was suddenly looking at a complete stranger.

And he wasn’t the only one.

Jade chose that moment to step out of the other room, an uncharacteristically horrified expression on her flawlessly made up features as she took in my new appearance.

“I didn’t want to believe it,” she breathed, shaking her head in dismay as she approached me. “But it was really you, wasn’t it? You really did kill Catherine, and all those other people Drew told me about?”

A smile was most likely not what she was expecting in response to her query-but that was what I gave her.

“Well, those _other people_ , yes I did kill them,” I confirmed in a cocky drawl, eyes gleaming. “But Catherine, on the other hand, well, I can’t take all the credit for that; after all-“

“We did that together,” Trey finished for me as he loped into the room, brushing his lips over my cheek before taking the throne next to mine and facing our two visitors impassively.

Jade’s eyes practically bugged out of her skull at that.

“What?” she said in that same scandalized whisper, like she couldn’t believe her ears. I didn’t blame her; I wouldn’t have believed it, either, if I were her.

Trey adopted a deceptively relaxed position, stretching his long legs out on front of him and crossing them at the ankles before repeating himself. “You heard me, little sister. I was the one to drive the knife into our mother’s blackened heart.”

I saw Jade flinch at his choice of words.

“Why?” she asked, aghast. “I know she wasn’t exactly mother of the year, but she still didn’t deserve that-not from me, and definitely not from you.”

“On the contrary, Jade,” Trey retorted silkily, draping his arm over my shoulders. “She hurt Braden and killed his uncle. She deserved much worse.”

Jade shook her head, looking helpless, giving me a perverse sense of accomplishment. Deep down, I’d thought that Trey’s love for his sister might supersede whatever he felt for me when it came down to this; but, standing here, seeing him stare her down without batting an eyelid at her obvious horror, I saw that I was wrong.

So, Jade decided to appeal to me.

“Braden, please,” she pleaded desperately, her eyes wide. “This isn’t you-this isn’t _either_ of you. You aren’t _this_ -you aren’t killers.”

“We weren’t,” I corrected her coldly. “But your mother, my father, Lucien, they all pushed me too far. So, this is what I’ve become-and I’ve taken your brother with me because, well, the descent into Hell is always much more fun when you’ve got a partner.”

“If this is just your attempt at pushing everyone else away so we don’t get caught in the crossfire, it isn’t going to work,” Drew cut in fiercely, taking a step closer to me so I could see that familiar stubbornness gleaming in his eyes. “We’re not just going to let you do this.”

I let out a heavy, exaggerated sigh.

“I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this,” I muttered to myself, feigning resignation. “But it seems I have no other choice.”

I waved my left hand, and a wall of blackness knocked both Jade and Drew off their feet onto the floor.

While they were down, I clawed into both of their minds, seizing the strands of determination that bound them to their goal of getting in my way, and breaking them.

“ _You will not interfere with this, either of you,_ ” I intoned, letting my voice fill their heads so they could not disobey. “ _You aren’t on my hitlist, so I won’t kill you; but, if you try to get in my way, I_ will _hurt you. Now_ leave _._ ”

I waved my hand again, and transported both of them outside. I knew Drew would be pissed and Jade would be hurt that I had used my power on them like that-but I didn’t care. I had more important things to do than worry about my-former-friends’ feelings. Like finishing what I had started and destroying the demon who had started all of this.

*

About ten minutes later, Trey, Tamesis, Riley and I were in one of the other, larger rooms in Jason’s house and sitting around a black stone table that I had conjured for this meeting.

“If you want to finish the Rider off completely, you’ll need to get together a big group of people in a public place,” Tamesis told me, her booted feet propped up on the table in front of her. “But you won’t be killing them-just blinding Lucien to all of them, like Matthias has done for you and the Widow.”

I tilted my head to the side, considering. That probably wouldn’t be as… _enjoyable_ as killing all those people earlier had been-but this wasn’t just about fun.

All I needed was a way to gather people.

“There’s a dance tonight at the high school,” Trey provided the answer, slinging his arm over the back of my seat. “Jade told me about it a couple of days ago. I don’t remember what it was for, but lots of kids are apparently going. Does that work?”

I saw the corners of Tamesis’ mouth twitch slightly in what might have been amusement-probably at the idea of killing Lucien at a high school dance, of all places.

“That’ll work,” she affirmed. “The more people there are, the more strings of Lucien’s we can cut, and the weaker he’ll be when you two take him out.”

“And how will we be doing that?” I queried, arching an eyebrow, not quite understanding _why_ I wasn’t killing all these people.

_Open doors and throats and don’t mind the mess_

“I’ll let your new dark prophet answer that question for me,” Tamesis replied, gesturing toward Riley.

As if prompted, a slow smile crept across her face, muscles seeming to contract at random, rather than by intent, in a way that should have been off putting, but strangely wasn’t.

“You want the confluences,” she said, her voice pressing into my head, ringing in my ears. She raised her fingers, conjuring sparkling stars and thousands of coloured threads that spilled out in front of me like an explosion of iridescent fishing line. Each thread twisted around others, knotted up, wrapped around, intersected, and cut off others.

I knew what I was seeing: the wave of potential that Lucien saw all the time. He could sift through thousands of these in an instant; it was his birthright, just as the witch eyes were mine. I’d mastered my gift-not it was Riley’s job to let me master his.

“The confluences, the places where futures intersect,” Riley continued, strumming her fingers along the threads like they were strings of a guitar, tugging on places where five, ten, twenty lives all came together.

“Take away one point.” The confluences went dark suddenly. “And everything is dominoes.” All the threads that had spilled out of it, maybe twice the number that entered it, vanished. Dark fog appeared through now-empty spaces in the future weave. “Take away many points, and what will he have left?”

_There is only victory in the breaking_

One by one, the futures started to vanish, until all paths lead to the same five or six outcomes. And then even those, too, began to fade away, until there was only one left: the one that ended with Lucien crumbling to dust at my feet.

With that, I understood: Lucien saw futures shaped like tree branches. They all split off from somewhere; but, if you could get down to the root of something and cut it out completely, it wiped out a whole line of futures.

That was how I would take away his strength. That was how I would kill him.

I smiled as well, looking over at Trey. “It looks like we’re going to our first school dance together, then.”

*

The dance was held in a hall on the south side of town, far from the shore and downtown. It didn’t look like anything really special from the outside, just a flat, rectangular building with some hedges for landscaping. But the inside was the complete opposite. Someone had rigged up tiny spotlights in pastel shades of blue, purple, and green that moved every few seconds to create an effect that was quite impressive. Someone had hung probably a thousand prism crystals, and the light beaming through them created a shimmering landscape on the ceiling.

It was a rare moment of unexpected beauty, and I couldn’t suppress a soft laugh at the irony of that.

“Not bad,” Trey commented from beside me, an amused twist to his lips. He’d gone the traditional route with his choice of attire tonight in order to blend in, swapping out his slacks and cashmere sweater for a black suit, which he wore with the jacket unbuttoned to show the black vest and gray tie underneath.

I’d also changed out of my black jeans and leather coat, choosing instead to don a gray suit with a burgundy tie. Black was Jason’s colour, like white had been Catherine’s. I was somewhere in between, so it seemed fitting.

“Were dances like this while you were in high school?” I asked, actually genuinely curious.

Trey shrugged carelessly. “And before then. I think dances were really important to Catherine when she was a student, and that just never went away, even after she graduated.”

I noted the apathy with which Trey spoke his mother’s name, and felt a slight sense of pride. There was truly nothing of Catherine’s loyal son left in the boy standing next to me.

I grinned as we walked further into the hall and I led Trey towards one of the corners, one with a good vantage point of both way we’d come in and the hall itself. Everyone that saw us-including the teachers-started whispering as we passed, probably surprised to see _me_ here, with a Lansing, and looking the way I did.

My smile remained. I didn’t care if they talked. What they thought of me mattered very little; all that mattered was how many of them would play their part when the time came.

We stopped, and I surveyed the crowd, doing a mental headcount. There were about a hundred students here. I estimated that there were five to six hundred kids enrolled in the school. I leaned closer to Trey to be heard over the sound of the music. “How many people do you think are going to be here tonight? Tamesis said we’d need a lot.”

Trey shrugged a second time. “Maybe about three hundred? Jade said this was one of the last dances of the year that was open to all the students.”

“That’ll be enough,” Tamesis stated, materializing suddenly in front of us, clad in a shimmery short-sleeved blue dress over black jeans that were exposed by her open emerald cloak. Her eyes gleamed as she addressed me directly. “Ready to begin?”

I inclined my head in a fierce affirmative. “More than.”

Tamesis tilted her head toward the stage. “Then, get up there and bring that bastard down.”

Trey and I shared a brief, charged glance before linking hands and following her direction. It was time to begin.

We vaulted up the steps, and made our way onto the raised platform, staring out over the growing sea of people. I opened my vision, seeing past the normal and into the secret sight of the witch eyes. _Three hundred and twenty-seven people. Sixteen adults. Thirty are drunk, two of them teachers. There’s a kid I’ve never met, a kid named Sean, and he’s got a flash he keeps refilling out at his car and sharing with his friends. One of the teachers caught him and drained the rest of it himself. The girl with the swimmer boyfriend is about to hook up with her best friend’s brother, and a couple of girls are sharing the first of many significant looks._

I opened my eyes and refocused, using the crystals to my advantage. It was easy to link the lights with my magic, turning them into a spotlight. The beam struck me as my head faced the stars, and little by little, the room started to follow my gaze. To see what I found so interesting.

And that was when I had them.

The lights hypnotized them. One by one, the crowd fell under my sway, lulled into silence by the sparkling metronome of lights. There was a pattern deep in the flash, coached by magic and channeled through me. I could _feel_ it as each person was added to the collective, and the power rushed through me as Trey’s hand squeezed mine, reminding me that he was there, and he was helping, too.

Someone turned off the music, and all movements in the room ceased. I could have done anything to any of them, then. They were puppets, and I was the master.

But this wasn’t about tying strings to anyone. It was about cutting the ones Lucien already had, so I could destroy him.

“You may not know me,” I declared in a quiet, but carrying voice. “But I know all of you. All your lives, you’ve been pieces on the chessboard. Pawns of a master you never even knew. But a pawn can destroy his master if he knows how. So, tonight, I’m giving you that option. All you have to do is look me in the eyes and say yes.”

One by one, the crowd turned down their heads and looked towards the stage. I split my vision, looking each and every person in their eyes and reading their thoughts. They were confused, obviously, but intrigued; they were going to do what I wanted-with a little extra push from my partner.

Gold light surged throughout the room, filming over everyone’s faces, and flitting through their minds, giving them that last little nudge.

The “yes”’s came, then, one at a time and each one a significant moment in its own right, snapping the spell into place. Blue and gold chains wrapped around all of them and I watched the threads I’d seen before dissolve. It was a small thing, but it would have a big reward. I’d given all these people a free pass from Lucien’s sight and his influence. An entire section of the tree of futures had vanished, and I knew he would come to investigate.

All I had to do was wait.

*

Barely five minutes later, my prediction came true. Tamesis waved a hand and I spotted him, suddenly lurking beneath the curved staircases that led to the upper landing.

He couldn’t help but spot Trey and me. And, like a moth to the flame, he headed toward the spotlight and toward us.

“What did you do?” he hissed, climbing the stairs and circling us in what was probably supposed to be a threatening manner.

Neither of us was fazed, though, and Trey decided to take the lead to show him that.

“We just thought we’d remind you why you were so terrified of us being together. Our friend thought it would make for a good date night,” he replied, his casual tone belied by the cruel smile on his curved mouth as he stepped up, tightening his grip on my hand. “And she was more than right.”

My own smile widened

“ _That’s enough_ ,” I called out, again speaking that strange arcane language that I still didn’t know how I knew-but which my power seemed to respond to. I wasn’t talking to Trey, or to Lucien, though-I wasn’t talking to any of the people in the room.

_I was talking to the room itself_.

Magic and demonic energy surged within me, and the world stopped around us. It wasn’t enough to make everything quiet as I’d done before. Lucien needed to know the power I now had at my disposal: so, I plucked the two of us out of time without even pausing to catch a breath. The world froze, a moment of iced over motion. Teenagers that had been dancing a second ago were in two places at once, in two moments at once, and the light show above was in mid-cycle, casting a multi-coloured glow all around.

The room was so quiet I could hear dreams being born almost as fast as dreams were broken.

“You…what did…” Lucien’s eyes darted back and forth, continuing to try and scan futures as he’d been doing ever since he’d walked into the hall. But I knew what he would see-and that was nothing.

“You won’t see any of their futures anymore,” I told him gloatingly, eyes bright, exultant. “Take a look around. Congratulate them. A graduating class free from you.”

“A party trick,” Lucien sniffed, acting unaffected when he realized that his blindness was my fault. “Nothing more. When you die the magic will be revealed, and everyone will go back to where they belong.”

“Except you,” I said, upper lip curling into a fully-fledged sneer. “You’ll never be able to go back, or regain the rest of your powers. And, now that you’ve willingly come to me, I can take what’s left. Face it, _Lucy_ , you’ve lost. I’m not the one who’s going to die- _you_ are.”

Lucien’s eyes twitched, and I could see him fighting to suppress his fear. But he couldn’t hide anything from me anymore. He knew how this was going to end-and there was nothing he could do about it.

I lifted Trey and I’s joined hands and our combined magic coalesced at our fingertips, forming into a ball of blue and gold fire.

_Magic also has another half a flip side_

_Raw, undiluted **power**_

Before Lucien could do anything to defend himself, we attacked, sending it hurtling straight for him. It knocked him off the edge of the stage, and he crumpled into a heap on the floor.

He couldn’t fight back as Trey and I let the magic take over, the fire consuming him and eating away at every last vestige of his strength, every last strand of his power.

“No, please,” he actually pleaded, and it was a voice crumbling with frailties. Trey wasn’t moved, though-and neither was I.

_I told you I’d make you pay_ , I hissed into his mind. _And this is what that looks like. You’re nothing now-you’re finished, Rider_.

A truly awful scream erupted out of Lucien’s mouth-along with what looked strangely like ink-as the sapphire and halcyon motes devoured him, burning away his flesh and bones until he was nothing but dust.

I watched him unravel, feeling not a single ounce of remorse. He’d deserved this, just as Catherine had; for what he’d done, he’d finally paid.

As his screams faded, Trey turned me around to face him, his other hand coming to rest on my waist.

“He’s gone,” he declared victoriously, pulling me close. He let go of my hand for a moment, snapping his fingers and switching the music back on. “How about a dance to celebrate?”

I let out a quiet chuckle and accepted, placing my hands behind his neck.

“Why not?” I said. “One dance won’t hurt my plans any.” And it was a good way to make one last affront to Lucien: by dancing on his grave. Literally.


	19. Chapter 19

Once, I’d dreamed of dying. Then, of demons and torture. Now? Talking. Just talking.

But I knew better than to think the words were just words; after all, the woman who was speaking wasn’t exactly known for making idle conversation.

“You’ve become what I always warned you that you would,” Grace declared, sounding not angry, but almost gloating. She was actually smiling beneath her veil, like she was happy to have been proven right.

It was hard to pick out any of her features beneath that veil, but her voice was unmistakable-equal parts old world British nanny, Catholic school nun, and long-reigning queen of her own nation.

I wasn’t intimidated, though; despite the fact that, the last time we’d met, she’d ripped a curse out of my head and thrown me from the parapet of this lighthouse, I was not the least bit afraid-only determined to show her that she’d made a big mistake.

“I bet you thought you’d put a stop to it,” I shot back smoothly, staring her down. “But really, all you did was speed up the timeline. You left me broken and defenseless at a time when everyone was out for my blood, and you expected me to what? Just lay down and die?”

Grace’s smile didn’t waver, but her gaze turned gold. “Dead would have been better: the life of a Reaper is not one to be lived in this town.”

I snorted. There were all sorts of demons and ghosts roaming around Belle Dam, stealing souls and futures, and _I_ was the one who didn’t belong? Grace’s Sight must be warping her judgement.

“You should have just killed me, then,” I said coolly. “Because what you did instead made certain that this town and everyone in it would be the ones to suffer for your misconception.”

_The Widow, the woman behind the curtain. She sits pretty with her looking glass, thinking she can interfere with the other side and not suffer any consequences._

_But she is wrong._

He _will come from the depth of his misfortune, to punish her for what she stole._

_The heir will rise, and fires will rage in his wake._

“The burdens laid upon me are many-and protecting this town is one of the most important,” Grace argued fiercely, looking down her nose at me like a disapproving schoolteacher. “You are a danger, and it is my duty to put an end to you before you can spill any more blood.”

I smiled indulgently.

“So, that is what you brought me here for? To make threats?” I quipped in a smug tone, folding my arms across my chest. “Well, that might be a little more worrisome if I hadn’t just taken out the last person who tried to use my dreams against me-someone even you couldn’t bring down on your own.”

Grace’s mask finally cracked, her features shifting from imperious to venomous in about half a second.

“You think destroying the Rider like you did was a boon?” she hissed, eyes spitting crimson sparks, betraying her ire. “Have you already forgotten what I showed you, boy? The Rider’s death is the catalyst for _their_ arrival into the human world-and they will raze everything I have built to the ground.”

_Something even demons should fear_

I met her glare calmly, my posture completely relaxed, unaffected by her dire tone.

“What you showed me was wrong,” I retorted blandly. “Belle Dam belongs to me now, and, if anyone is going to raze it, it’s going to be me.”

Grace’s expression turned ugly.

“You were right: I should have killed you,” she stated in a low, silky tone, danger engraved in every syllable and flashing in her eyes. “One such as you should not linger past their time.”

I bared my teeth, spreading my arms out on either side of me in a challenging gesture-just as I had done to Catherine just over a week ago.

“Go ahead and finish the job, then, Grace. Or, tell you what, I’ll even make it easy for you: I’ll come to you.”

_Let’s end this, then_

This time, my-attempted-tormentor wasn’t the one to have the last word. I woke up right after that statement, sitting up in my bed with only one thought at the forefront of my mind.

Grace Lansing was going to be the next name on my hitlist; all I needed was a way to get back into that lighthouse without being summoned by her.

And a way to kill someone who was, technically speaking, already dead.

*

“The Widow’s hideout exists outside of time and space,” Tamesis informed me when I brought the topic up with her in the living room a little while later. “She is its master, and, as such, on prior occasions, you’ve only been able to enter when she has granted you permission; when she has opened the door for you. Fortunately, there _is_ a way for you to open the door from this side without her knowing.”

I arched my eyebrows expectantly, gesturing for her to continue. “And that would be?”

Tamesis ran a gloved hand through her dark hair, sucking on her teeth like she was considering how best to tell me the answer-or whether or not to even tell me at all.

“It requires a descendant of the Armstrong line,” she said at length, after a brief, thoughtful pause. “There is a reason why one of them must always exist in Belle Dam; their blood is the keystone to the world between worlds. End one of their lives, and the gates open, making travel from this plane to the in-between place possible.”

My eyebrows lifted higher; I was sceptical that that could really be all there was to it.

“So, all we have to do is kill a member of the Armstrong family?” Trey queried, sounding like he was feeling the exact same thing I was, as he leaned back in his seat and surveyed Tamesis from the opposite side of the coffee table.

Turned out, we were both right to have doubts.

“Well, no,” the Reaper woman admitted truthfully. “Another ritual-sort of like the one you performed to find those whose futures were important to Fallon- needs to be enacted with the body.”

I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes; of course, it did. Because nothing like this could ever be as cut-and-dried as simply ending a specific life.

“I imagine this ritual is a bit more complicated?” I surmised, steepling my fingers under my chin. The answer didn’t really matter, though; whatever I needed to do, I would do it. My two greatest enemies might have been gone, but my hunger for vengeance-and blood-still hadn’t been satiated. So, I wasn’t done. I still wanted more-which was why I wanted to do this.

Tamesis inclined her head in confirmation.

“Just a little. It requires a specific time of day, and for the murder to be performed with a specific kind of weapon.”

“That sounds like a lot of specifics,” Trey commented, a crease appearing between his brows.

Tamesis lifted one of her shoulders in a shrug. “Travelling across different planes of existence is a very delicate process,” she stated matter-of-factly. “If you don’t do the ritual exactly right, you could open the wrong door, or even get stuck in the threshold between two planes.”

I held up a hand in front of Trey to forestall any further comments, cutting in before he-or Tamesis could say anything else.

“Let’s get it all together, then: whenever this “specific time of day” is, I want to have everything ready for it.  Grace and I have a long overdue follow-up appointment.”

Trey turned his gaze to me, laying his hand on top of my leg to get my attention.

“What brought this on all of a sudden?” he asked out of the corner of his mouth, searching my face like it might give him the answer.

I exhaled heavily. Though I wasn’t really keen on explaining myself, I knew Trey deserved an explanation; and he wasn’t trying to dissuade me from this, I could tell-he was just curious about why I was suddenly in such a hurry.

“You know Grace came to visit me in my dream last night. Well, she tried to do what Lucien did, to use my own subconscious against me, to scare me into continuing down this path,” I told him truthfully. My upper lip curled as I finished. “Instead, all she did was remind me that I’m still pissed at her for taking away my powers, and that I still owe her for that. And, also, she’s the last thing standing in the way of my getting everything that I want.”

I watched as Trey took a second to process that before giving my knee a reassuring squeeze.

“That’s all I needed to hear,” he whispered with a small smile of his own; then, his expression became serious again and he addressed Tamesis in a louder voice. “Well, let’s get this started, then.”

Taking both our commands, Tamesis rose to her feet, drawing the emerald hood of her cloak back over her head and waving one of her gloved hands behind her.

“The sacrifice must be made within a binding circle to contain the doorway so only you can go through and no others,” she explained as she conjured such a circle into the space behind the velvet couch. “And, since I imagine sacrificing your friend, Drew, won’t appeal to you, I think I have another option in mind.”

That made my head whip around in surprise. “Who?” I asked shrewdly, narrowing my eyes.

Tamesis flicked two of her fingers in the direction of the binding circle, and it began to glow like none I had ever seen before.

“Well, the ghost that attacked you a little while ago in the woods? He happens to be your friend’s late father, Bennett Armstrong-and he plans on coming back to finish the job he started, then. When he does, I can tether him here and we can use him instead of his son.”

I felt a mild sense of bemusement at that revelation. He’d told me Ben was short for something; I never could have guessed that he was Drew’s father.

If I had learned this information before now, I probably would have stopped what I was doing; but now it just made me smirk cruelly. I liked this plan. It was the perfect payback for what Bennett had done to me, and the perfect way to show Grace that she had made a mistake by taking my power away from me.

“Sounds good to me,” I consented. “Do it.”

The Reaper woman inclined her head a second time before turning and walking around the couch to go and stand in front of the binding circle.

Once there, she raised her arms over her head and began speaking in what I now knew to be the language of the Reapers-for that was the tongue all of our spells had to be spoken in.

“ _Come to me again, phantasm of the mortal, Bennett Armstrong!_ ”

_Time to torment the tormentor_

I didn’t even notice the fact that she’d said, “come to me again”; I was too enraptured by what happened when she finished speaking to really listen to the words.

The binding circle turned into a swirling black vortex around her, green symbols floating in the air above it. The acid glow that had filled it a second ago turned to shadows, which then coalesced into the very familiar figure of a man.

Ben-Bennett Armstrong, as I now knew him to be-materialized from within the void, all harsh, fading lines and fury-darkened eyes. He wasn’t smiling like he had been the last time we’d seen each other-but that was probably just because he knew he wasn’t going to be able to torture me again.

“Well, well, the tables have turned, haven’t they, Boy Wonder?” he observed dryly by way of a greeting. “The Boy Wonder’s finally got his super powers back and is taking revenge on the Big Bad Wolf for hurting him.” He chuckled mirthlessly, then held up that piece of crimson-stained cloth. “Did you forget about this?”

I stepped around the couch calmly, coming to stand on the other side of the circle with a blatantly unimpressed expression.

“That can’t control me anymore,” I said flatly. “In fact, today, the only one being controlled is going to be you; you’re going to be doing a little job for me, Ben.”

The ghost snorted derisively, looking at me like I was insane. “Like I would do anything _for_ you.”

I took another step forward, leaning into the circle’s center so he and I were face-to-face. “Oh, you aren’t going to have a choice in the matter,” I stated softly, my upper lip curling as Tamesis gave me a nod from behind him. A knife appeared in my left hand, and my smirk widened as I completed my statement. “Because, you see, what I need you to do is die.”

Without further preamble, I lunged, plunging the glowing knife into Ben’s chest.

Somehow, even though Ben was already dead, stabbing him still had the same effect that it would on a living person. He dropped to his knees with a wet, choking sound, and, as I withdrew the knife, he keeled over, blood trickling out of the corner of his mouth and spreading rapidly across the front of his shirt.

But that wasn’t all: when his body touched the floor, the green glow reappeared, surging out of his prone form like I’d just open a vein of phosphorescence or something, And, like phosphorescence, the glow had shape this time: it was shaped like a gate-a gate that was now open.

“That’s the door, Braden,” Tamesis called to me from the other side of the circle, her eyes gleaming the same shade as the gate. “If you really want to take down the Widow, all you have to do is step through it.”

I looked at Trey, a silent question in my eyes, wondering what he thought. I hadn’t given him much of a say in matters before this, so I figured I should give him some now.

He gave me a nod, taking my hand and joining me at the threshold.

“I’m with you, Braden,” he said quietly. “Whatever you want to do, whatever your plan is, I’m with you.”

That was all _I_ needed; as long as Trey was with me, there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that I could pull this off.

So, with that, I took a deep breath, and together we stepped through the gateway-and into the lighthouse _._

 

 

 


	20. Chapter 20

_Tear the fabric rend the veil walk the paths that cannot be walked only shattered violated renewed in sparkling silver moons in transitions darkness truncates the light strip the essence bare like children born blissfully blind walk crawl run toward her desolation_

The room we came into was dark, but walls of solid white stone were visible; I could make out the impression of a high, painted ceiling, and a staircase set into the wall to my left that circled the entire building. I recognized the layout all too well: we were in the right place.

“So, this is where Grace has been hiding all this time?” Trey observed from next to me, surveying the room with raised eyebrows.

“Not here,” I corrected him, tilting my chin in the direction of the curving staircase. “Up there.”

Trey followed my gaze, and his expression smoothed out into a slightly more serious one. “Ah,” he said.

I tugged at his hand, and we headed up-all the way to the top, where I knew Grace would be waiting.

Sure enough, when we emerged into the lantern room-somewhat rebuilt since the last time I’d been there-there she was, looking just as she had the first time I’d encountered her: facing the open sky, hands clasped in front of her as if in prayer, and still with her head covered by that familiar lace veil so it was difficult to make out most of her features.

Trey and I stopped a few feet away from her and I released his hand so both of mine would be free in case Grace made an unexpected attack; it wasn’t her style, but I knew I had to be prepared for anything. Grace wasn’t like Lucien or Catherine; she didn’t have a weakness that I had been able to exploit before facing off with her. She had no power handicap that I knew of. So, while I wasn’t afraid, it would have been stupid of me not to be at least wary.

Unlike last time, Grace actually turned around and acknowledged our presence almost immediately.

“Your hubris has lead you wrong, just as I knew it would,” she taunted by way of a greeting, eyes flashing that familiar shade of crimson as they focused on Trey and I. “You should not have come here.”

I lifted my shoulders carelessly, unconcerned. “Probably not,” I conceded. “But you and I have unfinished business.”

Grace stepped away from the opening in the tower, the skirt of her old-fashioned white gown billowing around her feet as she moved.

“Recall what I told you before: this place is a bastion, the lodestone of the town, and I am its sentinel. Seek to destroy me and you will leave the path open for the Riders, the masters of the one who called himself Fallon.”

I shook my head disapprovingly; she was still using that as her excuse for what she’d done to me. She really should have gotten some new material.

“I’ve already told you: you’re wrong about that, just like you were wrong about what would happen if you took away my power,” I retorted bluntly, stepping up to meet her gaze without blinking. “But there was one thing you were right about.” I paused, conjuring a dark violet whip into my gloved hands before adding, “One shouldn’t linger past their time-and I think yours has long since passed.”

I tossed a pointed, sideway glance at Trey and gold chains appeared, coiling around his hands and trailing out of his fingertips. We struck at the same time, throwing our combined magic at Grace like a javelin that she blocked just in time.

“You will not be able to slaughter me like you have the others. I am not human nor demon,” she stated, dispersing the wave of power we had shot at her with an exaggerated flick of her hand. “I am the originator of your power: it will not be so easy to use against me.”

Trey hastened to flank me, summoning more gold light so it bathed him from head to foot.

“You didn’t have anything to do with mine,” he pointed out fiercely. “And Braden has more than your eyes on his side now; the two of us are more than a match for you, _old woman_.”

Grace appeared unaffected by the provocation, but I saw her nostrils flare and whiten; Trey had gotten to her at least a little.

“Obviously, your mother did not teach you to respect your elders,” she tsk’ed imperiously, giving Trey a look like a strict nanny about to discipline her charge.

A cool smirk spread over Trey’s curved lips.

“The only thing my mother taught me was how to be a killer,” he stated casually, as if he were merely talking about the weather. He raised his right hand, gathering his power into Aurelian stars that protruded out of his fingers like daggers. “Which is probably the reason why I ended up killing her.”

_Fire burning churning screaming always screaming lay it all to waste_

He flicked his fingers, sending the gold stars hurtling toward Grace, and this time, they found their target, rushing over Grace’s skin and I saw her flinch-but only a little.

“Is this how you expect to win? With little tricks?” she scoffed, advancing on the two of us slowly, like a predator lulling its prey into a false sense of security. “Where is the primordial force that destroyed the Rider? Where is the conviction of the one who wants to take my town from me?”

I knew she was trying to provoke me, trying to get me angry so that I might make a mistake. But, once again, it was her who was making the miscalculation; getting me angry only crystallized things. It was what had lead me to the correct way of getting my vengeance for John’s death, and it was what would lead me to the best method of defeating this phantom bitch.

The winter voice was in my head-and Trey’s-whispering venom and destruction, and how to achieve it.

_Break her_

_The Widow has strings that tie her to this existence just like anyone else. Sever them and her entire being will unravel_

_Blood flows and she keeps bleeding because it’s the worlds blood seeping like rotten bandages fragrant and raw her looking glass cannot save her now_

I felt the power of the Reaper flare within me, a fire stoked and made from more than kindling. Trey and I looked at each other and his halcyon eyes, I saw the way to unravel Grace-permanently.

Violet light suddenly burst throughout the white stone walls, shaking the very foundation of the lighthouse. It cracked the floor beneath our feet, and it filled the sky above our heads.

A storm began, seeming to mirror our conflict as Grace sent her own power out in retaliation. It was like seven kinds of natural disasters all rolled into one; the clouds roiled as red washed over me and fire raced across my skin.

It should have been painful. I should have been knocked to the floor, screaming-but I wasn’t. I felt the heat; but it only invigorated me. My power grew darker as I sent wave after wave of it at Grace, pushing her back as I pushed forward.

Trey followed me, joining in on the assault and throwing more Aurelian daggers at our opponent. They embedded in Grace’s skin, causing it to ripple and tear, like rended silk.

Her face contorted in a furious snarl, and she increased the force of her attack, adding more fire to it, more burn. It had an effect; Trey faltered-but only for a second

(add more here if it doesn’t reach my word goal)

The storm grew even worse, tearing through the room like a hurricane. Blizzards raged at the corners, blanketing the sky in shawls of gray. Streaks of gleaming black and red light flashed overhead, and thunder reverberated in my ears and in my body.

_one chaotic world of destruction_

Clouds lit up with lightning, and I could see _things_. Faces and hands and slithering pieces that roiled with purpose, so vast that their movements caused shrieking winds that howled like wolves around the lighthouse precipice.

Even in the midst of the maelstrom, my head stayed clear, though; the light made it possible to see the threads that were tethering Grace to life, and I changed tactics, aiming my attacks at them, focusing my energy on breaking them.

_This is how it all falls apart_

Trey did the same, shooting his gold daggers where I was aiming my magic, adding more force, more pressure to the threads, making them strain.

A truly inhuman noise worked its way out of Grace’s throat when one her strings began to fray. Her entire form shook, and her magic grew faded, like it was beginning to wane. I could see her pushing harder, pouring more effort into her attack, but she couldn’t get it back to the same level.

Trey and I pressed our advantage; I got in closer, shaping my magic into a tangible weapon with one hand while the other kept up the torrent of blackness that was holding her in place.

I held a spear high, pointing the end at Grace’s chest as her threads continued to weaken under Trey and I’s constant barrage.

Finally, one of them snapped-and Grace’s feet went out from under her, bringing her to her knees. Then, another broke in two, and her defense vanished, leaving her completely unprotected.

I tilted my shimmering violet spear downward as Trey took hold of it as well, and we both pressed the tip against the place where Grace’s heart was (assuming she had one).

She raised her chin defiantly, struggling to muster up another assault to fend us off. But we had her-and she knew it.

_Crush her. All. Everything. Destruction is glory. The warmest fires burn from bones._

My upper lip curled victoriously at the sight of yet another of my previous tormentors prostrated before me, a victim of their own machinations. Things really couldn’t be any sweeter.

“Any final words, Grace?” I asked, choosing to embrace the cliché-just this once.

Her eyes _burned_ with rage and vitriol as she faced down the end of my weapon. “You think if you kill me, you will ever be able to find happiness or peace?” she hissed. “I will violate everything you touch, everything you have left. Your triumph will ring hollow, for you will _never_ smile again.”

I rolled my eyes expressively, undaunted by her words, or the unbridled fury behind them. I knew she’d say something like that; I knew she would never just accept her death peacefully. But that was fine. Her threats just made killing her feel that much more justified.

“As usual, you couldn’t be more wrong,” I retorted, widening my sneer just to prove my words. I pushed the spear more firmly into her sternum, so it began to cut through her dress. “And you can go to your grave, knowing that it was your assumptions that deposited this town into my clutches. Goodbye, Grace.”

Taking his cue, Trey placed one of his hands over mine and we rammed the point of the spear right through Grace’s chest.

Power lanced through me unexpectedly, and violet sparks rushed over the Widow’s bowed form and the remaining, fraying threads, and, one by one, they began to snap.

With each severing more Grace began to dissolve. Her skin appeared to liquefy, and her features began to blur. Yet, there was no blood, no gore; there was just indigo fire, purplish smoke, dark whispers filling the room, a bone-rattling thunder clap, and then…she was just gone.

We didn’t have much time to celebrate, though-because, almost as soon as she vanished, a bolt of lightning struck the lantern in the center of the room. The glass around it shattered and the candle inside fell to the floor, dropping flames onto the white marble.

The fire spread rapidly, and the lighthouse began to crumble around us; evidently whatever magic that had kept this place intact for so long had been tied to Grace’s life, and, now that it had ended, so had that spell.

“It’s time to go,” Trey declared, wrapping an arm around shoulders and turning me back in the direction we’d come.

I let him steer me down the stairs without a fight, knowing that was where our way out would be: Tamesis would make sure of that.

When we reached the bottom, it was like a zipper had been pulled back; the curtain was opened, and Tamesis was revealed, a bright gleam in her emerald eyes.

“Ready to claim your throne?” she asked me, lips curved in a smile.

I returned the smile. “Absolutely,” I replied confidently as Trey and I stepped back through the portal side-by-side, leaving the destruction behind without a backward glance.

_Like dominoes_

_They all fall_


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh this story is finally fucking done. it took like what two years? jesus. i'm happy with the finished product though; i might still go back and edit some things but for now it's all good. thanks to anyone who actually read it. hope you enjoyed.

_The end has come_

The last time I’d been in the lighthouse, Grace had thrown me from the parapet after ripping the witch eyes out of my head, and I’d come back to our world, disoriented and bleeding and hardly unable to see. Suffice it to say, it had not been pleasant.

This time was different, though; this time, I had both entered and left of my own free will. And this time, Grace was the one who’d been left broken and fading. The phantom presiding over Belle Dam was gone, and she was never coming back.

So, when Trey and I stepped out of the portal and back into Jason’s living room, I felt a shift in the air around us. It wasn’t visible; it was more like a sensation. The air seemed…lighter, somehow-less tainted, like Grace’s death had removed something from it. Or maybe it was just me.

I rocked back on my heels, inhaling softly, taking in the change with a sense of mixed triumph and bemusement. Trey’s arm was still around my shoulders and I leaned back against him, watching as Tamesis dissolved the binding circle that had contained the portal we’d just walked through, sealing off the doorway to what was now a place of ruins. Trey’s attention, though, was on the other female in the room-the one who was currently approaching us from the corner.

“You have succeeded,” Riley’s voice reverberated throughout the room as she strode out of the shadows to meet us, an almost mad gleam in her cornflower blue eyes.

“All the dominoes have been tipped, all the obstacles overcome. The heir has finally come, and now you and your partner may truly take your place as the ruler of this town.”

“Actually, not quite yet,” Tamesis interjected, turning around once the portal was finally completely gone, and holding up a finger. “There is still one more thing that needs to be done; it’s really just a formality but it is a necessary one.”

I tilted my head toward her, meeting her acid green gaze with a raised eyebrow. “And what is that?”

By way of a response, she beckoned for us to follow her, beginning to head into the other room-where our thrones were. “You might call it a coronation ceremony,” she stated enigmatically. “But, basically, another ritual needs to be performed: one that will truly bind this town to the two of you, like the lighthouse was bound to Grace.”

“You mean like, if we die, the entirety of Belle Dam would die with us?” Trey queried, his eyebrows also raised.

Tamesis inclined her head as we entered the throne room at her heels. “Exactly,” she summarized, stopping before the dais. She turned around again, spreading her arms to gesture toward the two thrones above. “Does that sound good to you?”

I looked over at Trey, connecting our minds so we could share our opinions on the subject. I knew what I was thinking, and Trey’s thoughts were along a similar line.

_I’ve been a pawn my entire life, and now I get to rule over an entire town by the side of the boy that I love. What about that wouldn’t sound good?_

The corners of my mouth twitched, and I nodded as Trey voiced both our thoughts. “That sounds perfect,” he declared, dropping his arm from around my shoulders as we moved to either side of Tamesis, ascending the steps leading up to the dais separately and sitting down in our respective thrones at the same time.

_They take their rightful place the new kings are crowned by the one who put them here_

“So, what is it we need for this ritual?” Trey asked as he reclined in his throne, slinging one of his long legs over the other and settling his arms on the armrests.

Tamesis climbed the steps as well, coming to stand in the space between us with her arms still spread before responding. “Significantly less than what we needed for the others: just a little blood from each of you, and a witness or two,” she explained, snapping her fingers.

I didn’t know who I was expecting to see when she said that last bit, but Jason and Matthias probably would have been on that list. They came out of the doorway that lead to the kitchen, Matthias with an expression of feigned indifference, and Jason with one of distinct unhappiness-both of which I understood. Jason was probably disappointed: he’d wanted to rule this town for so long, and now his son was getting to do so without even half the work he’d done. And Matthias, well, he was probably only there because he was afraid of disobeying-my power surpassed his now, and both Tamesis and I had the ability to make him very sorry.

“Oh, and one last thing I should mention before we go forward,” Tamesis added after a short pause, looking at me out of the corner of her eye. “This ritual, it isn’t just about crowning you or binding you to this town; it will also bind the two of you together for the rest of your lives.”

Trey and I shared a look from behind her; neither of us were expecting that.

But, strangely, I didn’t mind. I knew we were both probably too young to be thinking about forever, but I didn’t see how, after everything we’d been through, either of us could even consider being with anyone else.

I expected Jason would have some objections-and I wasn’t disappointed. “Braden, think about this,” he called to me from his position, affecting what could almost be called a pleading look. “Ruling this town isn’t what you really want. You won’t like what it turns you into.”

I waved away his comments, knowing that he was probably just jealous.

“Save your breath, _father_ ; we both know your sentiment is meaningless,” I said dismissively, rolling my eyes. “I’m doing this, no matter what your misgivings on the matter might be.”

Clearly listening to the whole conversation, Tamesis cleared her throat pointedly. “Are you ready, then?”

I looked back at my partner.

“What do you say, Trey? Want to marry me?” I asked, only half-joking. That was basically what this was: promising to be with one person for the rest of our lives was what marriage meant.

Trey’s lips curved in a bright smile.

“I think letting you make me into this already answered that question,” he replied smoothly. “But, yes. I have no objections to being with you-and only you-forever.”

It had been a long time since I’d felt real happiness-but Trey’s answer made me feel like everything was finally falling into place. And I couldn’t wait to get this going.

I nodded at Tamesis. “We’re ready.”

Tamesis returned her gaze to the front of the room, shooting a slightly gloating look at my father. “Let’s get started, then.” She withdrew a knife from her boot, and held it out to us. “Who wants to do the bloodletting first?”

I half-rose, taking the knife from her; without any further preamble, I removed one of my gloves and slashed open my palm. As Trey did the same, we both looked at Tamesis, curling our hands inward to keep the blood in place. “So, what now?”

Tamesis wasn’t immediately forthcoming with a response, instead spreading her arms again, extending her hands so each of them was nearly touching one of the marble chairs on either side of her. They didn’t stay idle, though; as she took a deep breath, they began to move through a series of complicated gestures that appeared to be some form of sign language.

“Raise your hands so they align and the blood falls as close as possible on the carpet,” she told us, closing her eyes. “Then, sit back and watch the magic happen.”

We did as we were told, opening our hands and holding them up so our palms were facing one another-and our blood dripped off the heels onto the carpet, mere centimeters apart.

My eyes turned back to Tamesis, following her hands as they froze on two different signs-and then, with a heavy exhale, she began to speak.

“ _By command of the primordial, by the strings of Fate, I anoint you kings of this realm. I bind the existence of this town to yours, and I give you the power of the Reaper to enforce your reign._ ”

 _This dark endeavour baptism of shadows and fire it was all for this world is now ours. We are kings. Masters of the people in this town. And nothing will ever be able to take that away from us. This is our time now_.

As if by a magnet, Trey and I’s attention was drawn back to the carpet where, before our eyes, the two rivulets of blood began to move, slithering over the floor toward each other. They joined, and a strange, unnatural black and green smoke began to rise out of the crimson pool. It surrounded us, and the platform upon which we sat, engulfing our thrones and obscuring our vision. It didn’t seem to be doing anything bad, though; on the contrary, as it filled my nostrils, I felt a sensation similar to the one I’d gotten when Trey and I first slept together. Everything in me reaching out to everything in him, our threads weaving together, our powers linking even more than they already had, making each other stronger-even stronger than they’d been before. We were already bound by our awakening and our magic; this was just making it permanent, irrevocable.

And I was all for that.

_They will become what they were and were always meant to be. This isn’t the ending of their story-it is simply the end of an era. We are its scions now, its kings._

More than that, I felt our threads being tied around those of Belle Dam, tethering it to our life force, and allowing its magic to fill both of us up-including that of the wellsprings. It was like an electric current surging through us both, and it showed on the outside as well as the inside: just like when Trey had first awakened his powers, there was an iridescent gold glow emanating out of every inch of his tall, lithe form. And, judging from his expression, something similar was probably happening to me.

I looked at Tamesis again, and I saw her giving my father that same gloating look she had when she first started this ritual.

“You see, it’s just like I told you, _Jase_ : this wasn’t about making your son a monster. It was about making him a king,” I heard her say.

I smiled; and it wasn’t a smirk or a sneer-it was a real smile, my first one in quite a while. It was all finally over: I’d gotten my vengeance, and gotten rid of everyone who had been messing with my life ever since I got here. I’d won.

It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows, though-I had lost some things, people who’d been important to me. Drew would never forgive me for becoming a murderer, and Jade would never look at me the same way for turning her brother into one. And Jason, well, he might be on my side now, but it was only as my servant, and not as my father.

But I had Trey, and Riley. Tamesis, despite still being an enigma, had become one hell of a friend and asset. All of my enemies were gone; I had settled all of my scores and finally quieted the storm of anguish that had been raging inside of me. I could move on now-I could have an actual life.

And that was exactly what I intended to do.

 

 

 

 


End file.
